A Well in the Dead Land
by Marz1
Summary: When Lily Potter arrives on Privit Drive with a spell to bring Sirius Black back, Harry thinks it's the miracle he's prayed for. All he needs is a book, a knife, and an entity called the Key. Is this the real deal or a trap? It wouldn't be the FIRST time.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't make any money from this writing project. I don't own the characters. I came up with the plot whilst scraping scum out of an industrial dish washer. Please don't sue me.

**Author's note:** This is set after the Buffy Series Finale and OOTP from the Harry Potter series, so there are some major spoilers. Also this does not take into account the Angel series. This is a Harry Potter vs. Buffy the Vampire Slayer story, so there won't be much in the way of hook ups or hand holding. If that is your thing, I urge you to flee. If you're looking for a story in which no one goes to Hogwarts to become a professor, then look no further. This story contains: Lots of action and violence, fights in almost every chapter, and quite a bit of angst and a little bit of swearing. Reviews are appreciated. That's it I suppose. On with the story. Hope you like it!             

( p.s. I can't spell worth unsalted peanuts)

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Prologue**

The air was thick, still, and hot. The slayer took a step forward, and felt as if she were pushing through heavy curtains. The smell of it pored into her mouth and nose, even when she held her breath; rain spattered on scorching asphalt. The haze distorted the light, and everything before her was glaring and tinted blue. She stood on the crumbling road, and looked down into the crater.

            Near the bottom, two shadows crawled slowly over the broken rubble. They were indistinct in the warped light, but the second shadow moved in a familiar and slightly ungainly manner. The slayer, Buffy Summers opened her mouth to call out, but the air pressed in like a gag. There was no sound. She went to the crumbling edge of the crater and looked down. A flat boulder lay thirty feet below. She leapt forward into space.

            From one rock to the next, down into the remains of the town of Sunnydale, she jumped, skidded, and stumbled. She knocked loose a small avalanche of gravel, but that too tumbled on silently. As she neared the bottom, the crater didn't flatten out, but the two shadows grew closer. Buffy tried to run faster, to catch up, but for every step she took the space between them stretched out. She tried to call again. She filled her lungs and shouted.

            "Dawn!"

            The word shattered the silence. The second shadow paused, but did not turn, and the thick haze settled back in the next instant. The seemingly endless chase continued, but every breath of the tainted air now stole the energy from Buffy's limb. Her heart roared in her ears. She looked back over her shoulder, and realized they must be near the exact center of the pit that had swallowed their former home town.

The shadows came to a halt. Buffy clenched her fists and ran harder. The lead shadow raised his arm. The ground beneath her feet shook and Buffy stumbled. Rubble rose up around the two shadowed figures. The broken rocks twisted and turned in the air, sliding over each other. With a final deep rumble they snapped into place. The shadowed figures stood, looking up at the newly formed arch of stones. The lead shadow began to chant. The strange words filled the crater, and as they echoed the air changed, suddenly and sharply.

The haze vanished and the ground between Buffy and her destination no longer stretched as she charged forward. The blue tint faded from the air, leaving it a sickly yellow color. The shadows came into focus, resolving into two people in black robes. They were nearly the same height.

"Dawn!" Buffy called again.

This time the second figure responded. She pulled back the hood of her black robe. Dawn Summers turned to face her sister. In the next instant Buffy wished she hadn't. The other robed figure drew a knife from his sleeve. Dawn raised her arm as if to wave. The blade came down. She fell.

Dawn landed limply, without a single twitch to fight her passing on. The robed figure stepped forward, and retrieved the knife from her back. He turned and swung his arm. Drops of blood flew from the blade and splattered the stones of the arch.

Buffy did not halt her charge. She slammed into the murderer. He was lifted off his feet. The knife flew one way, a pair of glasses the other. The glasses held Buffy's eye for a long moment. One lens was cracked and they were held together in the center by a thick piece of tape. They struck the ground and shattered.

There was flash of light, like lightening, but glaring red. Across the arch, a veil of torn black cloth formed. A howling wind rose up, as if to pull it off again. The murderer rose to his feet. His hood had fallen back, revealing a young, pale angular face and a mass of messy black hair. His nose gushed blood, but his expression was ecstatic. He raised his hands and called out in the same strange language. The howling wind came even stronger and scraps of the veil tore away.

"The door is opened!" called the murderer. "Come back! Please come back!"

Buffy knelt by Dawn's side, and rolled her over. Her little sister's eyes stared up at her, empty and unblinking. Buffy brushed them closed. She felt nothing but cold.

The murderer did not look as Buffy got up again, and picked up the knife. It was still covered in blood. She grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.

"Murderer," she hissed. It was all she could say.

He looked faintly surprised. He started to pull something from his sleeve. Buffy didn't hesitate. The blade slid into his chest without resistance. He fell against her, grabbing the front of her jacket. His green eyes stared into hers.

"He was supposed to come back," the murderer said in a very childish voice.

His arms went slack and he slumped down at her feet. His breath left him in a rattling sigh. Buffy realized he couldn't have been older then Dawn.

A shadow came over her and she looked up. The sun had gone from the sky. She looked towards the arch.

Darkness washed her away. 

Buffy sat up and pushed away the tangled sheets with a groan. She wanted to dismiss the nightmare as a vision brought on by the animal style In-and-Out burger she had ingest twenty minutes prior to sleeping, but she got up to check on Dawn anyway.

Her little sister lay asleep in the living room in front of the television. A man in an apron was yelling about a rotisserie chicken that was spinning around in a little box. Buffy pushed the off button. She took a blanket from the hall closet and threw it over Dawn without waking her, then went to check all the doors and windows.

She looked down at the street below the apartment. It was empty and quiet, which was rare in New York city, even at three A.M. The gross summer heat and humidity had faded for the most part. Buffy sighed. She went back to her room and changed into running shorts and a tee-shirt. She knew she wasn't going to sleep again that night.

She picked a sharpened wooden stake out of the trunk in her closet, and almost as an after though took the little canister of pepper spray the neighborhood watch lady had given her when she, Dawn, and Xander had moved in. If she didn't find any vampires on her jog, she could always beat the snot out of the muggers and perverts that called her rather low rent neighborhood home. Certain that she would feel better when the sun was up, Buffy set out into the not quite cool morning.    


	2. The Things that Walk Amoung Us

**Disclaimed!**

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 1: The Things that Walk Among Us**

He couldn't speak. For an entire minute he couldn't make a single sound. Remus Lupin reached toward the pocked of his coat where he kept his wand. A sharp poke in the chest reminded him that is was already in his hand. He understood why the Dursleys were upset.

The Order had been excessively careful with the watch they set around 4 Privet Drive, and no one had seen Harry leave the house in over a week. When he'd come to the door, with Tonks and Moody as back up, he'd expected to find Harry locked up in his room by his less then loving relatives. In a bizarre turn Petunia Dursley, Harry's aunt, seemed relieved to see them on her porch.

"You're taking him with you," she half asked, half demanded.

She stepped aside and pointed up the stairs. As Remus passed he glanced into the living room, and saw it was cluttered with clothes and sleeping bags. Apparently the Dursleys had abandoned the upper floor of their house. They went up to Harry's small room. Remus knocked, and when there was no answer he pushed the door open. But he could not make himself enter.

The walls were covered in Runes and writing. Most of it was drawn on in ink, but some had been carved into the paint. A pentagram was burned into the wooden floor, and more forbidding symbols scrawled across the ceiling. The wardrobe lay on its side. The mattress was shredded and partially blocked the doorway. Harry was sitting on the bare box springs of his bed. His face was pinched and anxious. Remus eyes were drawn to the runes splashed across the wall directly behind the teenager. The black ink over lapped another figure, carved into the paint. Remus squinted and realized the carving depicted the arch, from the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries, the place where Sirius Black had died.

A sick sad feeling passed through Remus. They shouldn't have left Harry alone, not after what happened to his godfather. They shouldn't have left him alone with his grief. Remus shook off the shock that had kept him froze.

"Harry, what's wrong?" he asked as gently as he could.

"I don't feel well," Harry answered just above a whisper.

Remus stepped forward, but was stopped by a painfully strong grip on his upper arm.

"That's not Potter," Moody's voice growled in his ear.

The boy on the bed looked up at them and smiled.

"Who is it Alastor?" Remus asked, his eyes never leaving the boy.

Though he couldn't see Moody, he was certain the retired Auror's enchanted eye was looking right through him.

"It's just an illusion," Moody growled.

The boy stood up then, and the bed springs didn't creak. Remus relaxed a bit. An incorporeal magical projection couldn't affect the physical plane. It was one of the basics from charms class. _But then who wrote on the walls?_ Remus thought, and more importantly…

"Where's Harry?" Remus asked the illusion, as it came towards him with rocking, jerky steps.

"Why do you want to know?" it asked, imitating Harry's voice exactly.

It stretched its hand out toward Remus as if it were going to touch his face. Though he trusted Moody's assessment of the danger it presented, he couldn't help but step back out of reach. Moody grunted as Remus bumped into him. The thing kept coming.

"Don't you like me anymore Remus?" it asked.

Its fingers were getting ever closer. Remus started and bit back a shout as Moody's hand came down on his shoulder. He tried to push Remus back into the room so he could get through the door.

"It can't hurt you. It's not really," Moody grunted.

"You should listen to him," the fake Harry said. "He's really very smart."

Its fingers were almost touching Remus chin, and unthinkingly he tried to push it away. His hand passed right through the illusion. It was all he could do not to scream.

He'd expected a cold feeling, like the time he'd accidentally walked through a ghost. Instead a familiar agony raced up his arm and into his chest. He fell to his knees, cradling what used to be his hand. _It's not possible_, he thought desperately. His eyes darted to the window, where the sun shined cheerfully in, and the full moon was not to be found.

"It's very possible," the fake Harry said.

It stood over him with its hand hovering just above his forehead. Moody blasted it with a stunning curse, but it passed right through and scorched the wall. Tonks was yelling something. She squeezed passed Moody and tried to shove the fake Harry away, but passed through it as well, and fell sprawling on the shredded mattress.

"I won't. I can't," Remus gasped, as he tried to force the clawed paw to change back into his hand.

"Sorry Loopy," the fake Harry said almost affectionately. "You don't have a choice."

Its hand came down. It passed through his forehead, and stopped in the center of his chest.

Instinctively Tonks' hands went to her ears, trying to block out the inhuman sounds pouring from Remus Lupin's mouth. She barely rolled out of the way in time. The writhing half-transformed werewolf's claws flailed about, catching her robes. She scrambled back just quick enough to save her skin.

The fake Harry stood calmly in the Remus back, its feet and ankles hidden from view. Moody fried another curse at it, and uselessly scorched another wall.

"That was some great advice Mad-eye," the fake Harry said, grinning so hard it looked as if its face were about to split. "What have you got for Nymphadora?"

It floated towards Tonks. Her feet had become tangled in the torn hem of her robes and she struggled to free them. Moody threw another stunner which passed through it. Tonks flung herself out of the way just in time to avoid the glaring red light.

"Knock it off!" she howled.

"Yes Mad-eye, knock it off. You wouldn't want to accidentally kill your friends," the fake Harry said to Tonks, almost conversationally. "He wants to kill his friends on purpose. You wouldn't believe how much he thinks about murdering people. Why during breakfast alone he thought of how best to kill Remus Lupin, the Weasley twins, and Mundungus Fletcher. He did have some vague moral argument that he would only do it in self defense, but he was planning a pretty elaborate set up."

Moody looked ready to throw another curse.

"Don't think you're left out Nymphadora," the fake Harry said. "He thinks about you too, though usually only in the shower."

Tonks ducked as Moody's next curse blew out the window.

"Damn it Alastor! I'm going to take that thing away from you!" she shouted, brushing bits of glass out of her hair.

Tonks raised her wand and cast a containment spell over Remus. A glowing blue net pinned him to the floor. She got to her feet and pointed at the fake Harry with her finger instead of her wand.

"I don't know what sort of trouble you're trying to start but you won't get very far with it. Either tell us were Harry is or clear off so we can clean up this mess. I've not got time to waste on mirages with delusions of granger."

The fake Harry rose off the floor and floated towards her. "You're almost no fun at all, you know that?" He stared at her hard. "Why there's almost nothing…except for your fifth year at school. You went into the prefect's bathroom with Eric Montague and…"

"That's enough out of you!" bellowed Tonks.

"Oh but I was just getting to the good part. She was impersonating Eric's girlfriend at the time. The face was easy enough to copy, but she went so far as to pilfer some of the girl's perfume. He never it figured out, even when…" The fake Harry trailed off, suddenly looking thoughtful. "I've got something more important to attend to, but I'll be seeing you soon." It settled back to the floor, and turned towards the door. It walked right through Remus, who howled, and through the containment spell, which faded away like smoke. He continued on through the opposite wall, and did not look back, even as the werewolf got to its feet.

"Oh bloody hell," said Tonks.

Moody nodded in agreement.


	3. Predictable Plans

**Disclaimed**

**A Well in the Dead Land**

**By Marz**

**Chapter 2: Predictable Plans**

"Hey-OWWW!"

Xander Harris' voice rattled the windows of the small over crowded apartment. A few screams at 11 o'clock in the morning were not unusual in their neighborhood, but Rupert Giles still glared at him. Xander waved his hands helplessly at Buffy Summers and then at the large puddle of hot coffee she'd just poured in his lap.

"Sorry," Buffy said belatedly, handing him a kitchen towel.

"Not sleeping well?" Giles asked from his un-scalding seat.

"Nightmare," she replied.

Her eyes drifted to the door, checking for the nosy kid sister before continuing. "of the premonition kind."

Xander repressed a groan.

"Giles, your trip to England…"

"I'll cancel immediately," he interrupted.

"Don't," she said. "I want you to get two more tickets."

"Explain." The watcher ordered.

He didn't mind buying the extra plane tickets, though last minute purchase would mean extremely exorbitant fees, and their funds were rapidly dwindling… He pulled himself out of the anal accountant mind set as Xander interrupted his thoughts.

"What's going down in the land of crumpets?" he asked.

"Nothing," Buffy said. "That's why you're taking Dawn there." Buffy actually looked frightened as she spoke.

"Wait one second!" Xander said jumping to his feet. He felt the rapidly cooling coffee running down his legs into his socks. "We aren't going to run off in the middle of something. You remember how well that worked last time? What did you see?"

"I saw Sunnydale, the crater anyway. I saw Dawn and a teenage boy. They were dressed up in black robes. They were summoning something in the crater. It was a big thing."

"A big thing?" asked Giles with practiced patience.

"Like a Stonehenge, but rounder." She traced the shape of "the big thing" in the air with her hands, and spilled the last of her coffee onto Xander's recently vacated chair.

"An arch? A free standing arch?" Giles asked, attempting to clarify.

Buffy nodded.

"Then what?" asked Xander.

"The boy stabbed Dawn in the back and she died. The arch opened, darkness poured out, and you know," she finished with a shrug.

"The world came to an end?" Xander supplied.

She nodded again.

"Dawn will not willingly leave you," Giles pointed out.

"She will if she doesn't know. Just tell her you got free tickets, or need help with research, or you have a gorgeous but shy nephew who desperately needs a date to the prom and she's the only one who can help. Just make something up."

"She'll be suspicious if I go instead of you," Xander pointed out.

"I can't go until I've found and trained the five potential slayers Willow said were somewhere in the city. She knows that," Buffy said.

"We'll give it our best shot, but Dawn is bound to know something is up, and what if you need our help?" Xander asked.

"I can handle one evil kid by myself," Buffy said.

There was coldness in her eyes that Xander didn't like.

"I'm going to the crater in Sunnydale. I'll round up a few other slayers on the way. You just worry about getting Dawn to England, where she'll be safe."


	4. Better Left Alone

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 3: Better left Alone**

            He set the pestle on the counter and listened again. There was another thump in the attic. Severus Snape drew his wand and got up from the bench. He muttered a spell to check the integrity of the house, but it failed. That is to say the spell failed to work in the intended manner. The oil lamps and fires in his potions lab blinked out the moment he tried to focus his magic in the house's defenses.

            Another clatter came, this time from the staircase. Snape made no attempt to illuminate the dark corridors of his home. He spent less than two months there every year, but he knew his way around the curses and traps with his eyes closed. He slipped out of the lab. His eyes were drawn to the window at the end of the hall. Though he was on the second floor, he was quite certain he saw someone looking in.

            A thump from the attic above him caught his attention and when he looked back the window was empty. He continued on soundlessly, but the stairs were deserted when he turned the corner. He paused and looked out the window. The shady and overgrown garden was free of trespassers. There was another thump from the attic. Against his better judgment he climbed the steps. He turned the door knob without a sound and the hinges did not creak as it swung open, but that did not matter. The intruder was already facing him.

            Though he stood with his back to the small attic window, hiding his face with the glare, Snape knew him immediately. The spiky mess of black hair and thick glasses were more then enough to give him away.

            "Potter what do you think you are doing here?" His voice nearly shook with rage.

            The boy just stood there staring. He was dressed in Gryffindor Quidditch robes of all fool things. Snape waited for the brat to stutter out some lame excuse and ask to see the overly lenient headmaster of Hogwarts School, but the expected response did not come. Instead the boy casually ran his hand through his hair, as if trying to muss it up even further. 

Snape's stomach made a funny little jump. He blinked and took a step closer. There was no lightening shaped scar on the boy's forehead. Snape raised his wand.

"Lumos."

Instead of a tiny pin point of light, the resulting flash left him seeing nothing but stars. His fingers burnt and he lost his grip on the wand. He heard it roll away across the floor.   

"Having trouble Snivellus?" asked the boy, in a voice far too deep and confident to belong to Harry Potter.

Snape took a shallow breath.

"What's the matter Snivellus? You don't seem happy to see me."

_It can not be. It's a trap of some kind. It can not be. _Snape pushed the muddling thoughts from his mind. The person behind this was trying to play mind games, he knew that. The problem was that none of his enemies would bother. The Dark Lord had the power to pull this kind of stunt, but he would never stoop to such immature pranks.

"You are not James Potter!" Snape snapped, rubbing at the spots in his eyes.

_A bogart possibly_, he thought. But he had no great fear of the figure before him, only loathing.

"Of course I'm James Potter. Who else would I be?" the apparition asked.

Snape heard the rustle of fabric as it came towards him. He dropped to his knees, feeling about the cluttered floor for his dropped wand.

"You're not Potter. I was at the funeral, fool. I saw them put Potter and his wife in the ground," Snape growled.

His fingers brushed the wand and he heard to rattle and roll further away across the floor.

"I said I was James Potter. I never said I was alive."

The voice was exactly as he remembered it. Snape scrambled forward and his hand closed over the thin piece of wood. He pointed the wand where he'd last heard it speak.

"Still don't believe I'm me?" the voice came from the other side of the attic.

Snape whirled. The dazzle had faded from his vision, but his eyes watered heavily, blurring the scene before him.

"Feel free to ask questions."

The voice was behind him. He turned again.

"Why don't I get you started?" James asked. "Remember that time in our fifth year at school when Sirius and I hung you upside down from the center scoring ring on the Quidditch pitch? Or the time we hung you upside down over the lake after the O.W.L.s? You certainly spent a lot of fifth year upside down didn't you?"

Snape swallowed. He knew it was trying to provoke him. Whoever or whatever it was, it must have done some research. Or found some photographs. He recalled Peter Pettigrew frequently had a camera with him when he went along on one of Potter's torture sprees.

"Do you remember the time Claudia Quirke asked you on a date to Hogsmead? It took us almost a month to convince her to do that. Sirius practically had to propose to her before she agreed. Worth the effort though. That one actually started you crying. What was it she called you? The most pathetic…"

"Shut up," Snape cut him off. "Any of that could have been learned second hand. I do not care who you are or who put you up to this, but you are going to regret it for the rest of your very short life."

His vision was completely clear then, and he leveled his wand directly in James' face.

"Going to hurt me Severus?" James asked. He side stepped into the light and Snape could see him leering. "You used to daydream about getting back at us. You had quite a few really good ideas. You were going to tie me to a chair and pull out my finger and toenails with pliers, then use a chisel to knock out my teeth. After that it was unforgivable curses. Want to give that a try? Come and get me Snivellus. I promise I won't run away."

Snape's stomach gave another nervous jump. He threatened James Potter with unforgivable curses on a regular basis, but he'd never mentioned a plan to use muggle implements on him. He could be guessing. He had to be guessing. Snape never let his guard down. That thing couldn't have read his thoughts. No one had penetrated the defenses of his mind, not in years, except for…

"Thinking about Harry are you?" James asked.

Snape struggled to keep his face blank.

"He actually felt a bit sorry for you after looking through your memories. Did you know? He even told Sirius off for bullying you. Of course he regrets doing it now. He wishes I never saved your life."

"Does he?" Snape said mildly.

"Yes. He's quite convinced you purposely with held information from him, in an attempt to aid Voldemort. Of course we both know that isn't true. You want the Dark Lord dead more then anyone. Do you think Voldemort knows? Maybe I should go and tell him."

James Potter began walking towards the door. 

"Impedimenta!"

Snape intended to trap the entity, but the spell went out of control. Instead of freezing James Potter in the doorway, a shockwave of force burst from the end of the wand. It flung Snape across the attic, slamming him into a stack of old cauldrons. 

He sat up and drew a wheezing breath of air. Judging from the light, he could not have been unconscious for more then an hour. Snape crawled shakily to his feet. The pain in his back kept him from straightening all the way up. His ears rang.  James Potter was no where to be seen. As he hobbled across the attic towards the stairs he found his wand. The end had blown out, and the dragon-heart core hung out like a bit of frayed string.

As he descended to the second floor, Snape wondered why he had been left alive. As he stumbled off the last step he understood. The little show in the attic had been a ruse. The door of his potions lab hung open and wet foot prints trailed down the hall toward the first floor staircase. Snape paused for a moment to look into the lab. It was completely ransacked. The cabinets were over turned and hundreds of priceless jars and vials of potion had been shattered. The floor was covered in shimmering liquids, and there were holes in some places were the more caustic solutions had eaten through. It would take months to figure out what was taken.      

            He tracked the foot prints down to the library on the first floor. The shelves had been turned over, but the damage was not nearly so permanent as what was done in the potions lab. Still the thief again had the advantage. It would be days of work before he knew what was missing.

            He wanted to apparate to Order headquarters, but as his wand was broken and he was not suicidal, he pushed that thought aside. He considered making a fire call, but as all the magic in his home seemed to have gone out of control, he was in no hurry to dive headfirst into open flames. All that was left was owl post.

            "Torrent, come here!"

            Snape was not lazy, but the owl slept in the study on the second floor, and Snape did not feel up to more stairs. Five minutes went by. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he climbed the steps. The door of the study was open slightly. Brown feathers were scattered across the carpet. The bird was dropped carelessly on the floor bellow its perch, its neck rung.    

            A few drops of black ink spattered the bird's chest, and Snape's eyes were drawn to the window. Someone had smeared a message across the glass with their finger.

****

**_Your_****_ Neck Next_**


	5. Casualties

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 4: Casualties**

Tonks dropped the five year old copy of Wit_ch Weekly _on the table as the healer entered the waiting room. The healer's face was tense and she rolled her wand across her knuckles as she walked. Before Tonks could utter a single question, there was a soft pop, and an ancient man in periwinkle robes appeared on the bench next to her. The healer dropped her wand in surprise, but recovered quickly.

"Headmaster Dumbledore!" the healer said, "Are you well?"

"I am in perfect health for a person my age, Healer Perkins, but thank you for your concern."

The headmaster responded politely, and even gave Perkins a little half bow from his seat. Tonks was not surprised that Dumbledore knew her, as he seemed to know everyone. The healer stared, waiting for him to state his business, but he only folded his hands in his lap and looked about, as if he had come to St. Mungo's hospital simply to observe the wall paper of the waiting room. Tonks cleared her throat.

"Yes of course," Perkins said, her nervousness returning. "The werewolf…"

"You mean Lupin?" Tonks interrupted sharply.

"Yes, yes, of course," she frowned at Tonks before continuing. "Mr. Lupin has completely reverted to human form. We're treating him as best we can, but a transformation outside the influence of the full moon is almost entirely unheard of. The only reference we could find was well over three thousand years old and it did not give any clue as to the cause of the unexpected change. We've isolated him incase it happens again, and made him comfortable, but…"

"But what?" Tonks asked.

"We are a bit concerned about his mental state. He has been saying some…"

Tonks cut her off again. "He's awake? We have to see him this instant."

"That would be inadvisable at the moment. He is not well and visiting hours were over at…"

The healer took a step back as Tonks jumped to her feet, and managed to knock over the coffee table, scattering magazines across the floor. Tonks pointed at Perkins, but before she could get her self banned from the hospital, Dumbledore cleared his throat. With a snap of his fingers the table and its accoutrements put themselves back in order. Tonks turned and saw he'd stood up as well.

"Healer Perkins," the ancient man said, "I do not believe it necessary to wade into the bureaucracy of hospital policy. It is imperative that we speak to Mr. Lupin. Lives hang in the balance. He is on the fourth floor I believe, the Ignacious Wormwood ward?"

The healer gave a slightly stunned nod. Dumbledore gave her another half bow and headed toward the stairs. Tonks followed. In the semi-privacy of the staircase they spoke.

"Did you talk to Moody?" Tonks asked. Her foot caught the edge of a step and she would have fallen had the headmaster not caught her arm. She was tired, wired, and scarred, and none of that was helping her already poor coordination.

"I did," Dumbledore said. "I spoke with another member of the Order as well. He also had a less then corporeal visitor this afternoon. We brought him to Hogwarts for treatment. I think the rest of the situation should be discussed later."

Tonks nodded. They arrived in Remus Lupin's room in silence. It was locked and warded to prevent unauthorized entry, but it did not impede Dumbledore in the slightest. He taped the door once with his wand, and then held it open for Tonks.

Remus lay tucked into a neatly made bed. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his hands clenched the blankets in a white knuckled grip. Sweat beaded his forehead and upper lip. He was mumbling something, almost too quietly for Tonks to make out.

"Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away," Remus chanted over and over again.

The Headmaster settled in the chair by the bed and Tonks stood on the other side. The sick man sensed their presents, but his pleading chant only grew louder.

"Remus," Dumbledore said gently. "Look at me.".

The second Lupin opened his eyes an almost eerie calmness came over him. He stared at Dumbledore without blinking.

"Remus, I need to know what happened."

Tonks knew what Dumbledore was really saying. He wanted permission to use Legilimency, to look inside Lupin's mind and see what had occurred. Lupin gave a very weak nod of assent. Tonks turned her back on them, not wanting to get drawn into any of it with accidental eye contact. It was over a minute later. When she looked again Dumbledore was thoughtfully watching his own tented fingers, and Lupin was shaking.

"I don't think it's gone," Lupin said.

His eyes were boring into Tonks.

"I think it's still here," Lupin continued. "It…it…it feels like my insides are all gone. I think it's in there. I think it's still in my head. It…it…k-knows. The wolf knows its coming. It wants it to come back. It wants to get out."

"Don't worry Remus," Tonks said, trying to cheer him up. "We'll catch that thing, and it'll spend the rest of its life in the Department of Mysteries being poked and prodded and spelled."

He stared at her. She went to plan B.

"Would you like something to eat? Or read maybe. I could get you a magazine."

Lupin's shaking grew worse.

"It knows what's in my mind. It's moving around in there. It's tearing things up."

Dumbledore leaned forward in the chair.

"Remus, I wish to try something which I believe may help you. Will you let me?"

Lupin's eyes grew glazed. "It knows you're here, Professor. It's watching, always watching, always watching. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away."

"I believe I will take that as a yes."

There was a glass of water on the night stand and Dumbledore unceremoniously dumped the contents out on the floor. He placed his wand against Lupin's temple and muttered an incantation. Tonks had seen this magic before as well, though it usually only worked when a person cast the spell on themselves. As Dumbledore drew the end of his wand away a black worm like strand clung to the end of it. He dropped the dark thread into the empty glass, where it writhed about, as if it intended to crawl out. Dumbledore repeated the process until the glass was a quarter full of the disgusting things. The last strand Dumbledore pulled loose was a bright and shining silver, and he quickly pushed that one back inside.

Remus Lupin blinked, groaned, and sat up. He looked about the room as if he'd never seen it before. His eyes were drawn to the glass in Dumbledore's hand.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Without further study I can not be certain. I believe they might be werewolf thoughts, or perhaps something even more alien. I trust you feel better without them wiggling about in your mind?"

Lupin nodded.

"That thing, in Harry's room, when it touched me, everything in my mind, it all went to pieces. I don't know how…"

"Remus, I have another meeting to attend to shortly. Now that you are once again yourself, I believe it would be best if you did not confront that particular creature again. When you are released from the hospital, I wish for you to take over at Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley will take over your duties in the search."

"But sir, I can't just sit there and guard an empty house. I have to help. It's my responsibility."

The ancient man locked eyes with Lupin. "This is not open to debate. You are absolved of responsibility. You are vulnerable to this creature in a way no other member of the Order is. You would become a danger to yourself and others."

"If I took the Wolf's Bane potion…"

"We can not risk it. The creature has shown a disturbing ability to alter and re-channel magic. Remus this is not punishment, and I do not doubt you would fight your hardest to resist the creature's influence, but we can not sacrifice the safety of the Order to spare your feelings. I need your word that the moment your release papers are signed you will apparate directly to Grimmauld Place, and stay there until I personally tell you other wise."

The Headmaster of Hogwarts School looked at him sternly.

"You have my word," Lupin said quietly. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

Dumbledore nodded and stood. There was a soft popping sound, and in the next instant he was gone. Lupin turned to Tonks.

"Has there been any progress at all?"

She shook her head. "We've got agents in nearly every magical community in country, and the international port-key stations have all been shut down. We'll find Harry. Don't worry so much. You'll give yourself wrinkles."

"I should be out looking," he said miserably.

Tonks shrugged and turned to leave. She had eight hours till her next shift began. She was going to take the knight bus home rather then disapparating, as she was so exhausted she feared she'd leave an arm behind. She stopped in the door way.

"You know if you left before they signed you papers, you technically wouldn't be breaking your promise. G'night Remus."

It occurred to her later that she probably should not have put that idea in his head.


	6. First Impressions

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 5: First Impressions**

            Dawn Summers was suspicious. It was not that she didn't trust her traveling companions. She'd jump off a cliff blindfolded if they told her too. She knew it was not outside the realm of possibilities that they'd invited her on a trip to England just to be nice, either. But Xander and Giles were incredibly tense as they packed for the trip. They didn't calm down until the stewardess was handing them drinks at thirty thousand feet. _Maybe Xander shouldn't have relaxed_, Dawn thought giggling. He'd bumped the Stewardess' elbow and got hot coffee poured in his lap. Buffy had to stay in New York to find and train a bunch of new slayers, and though it made her feel a little guilty, Dawn didn't mind being on vacation without her. Still, something wasn't right.

            Dawn picked up another magazine. _Don't they have anyone to take pictures of besides Prince William? _She thought, flipping through the pages. She glanced at Giles who was looking at the display of souvenir shot glasses that covered the entire wall of the airport gift shop. They'd been waiting there for Xander for over an hour. She loved him like a brother, but he could be such an annoying goof ball some times. He'd been dragged off to the customs office with passport issues. Dawn sighed.

            "Flight delayed?" asked a quiet voice with a very nice British accent.

            Dawn smiled as she looked up at the teenage boy addressing her. He was a little punk looking, with messy spiky black hair, and a slightly quirky smile. Dawn was certain he had to be in some kind of band, or was at least a high ranking groupie.

            "No, my friend just tried to smuggle in nail-clippers. Interpol is all over him. They think he might be the head of a clipper smuggling syndicate."

            The boy's smile was fading. Dawn closed her mouth quickly. Her attempt at witty conversation was rapidly turning into babbling. She tried to casually put the magazine back in its rack, and dropped it on the floor. She and the boy reached for it at the same time and their foreheads bounced together with a resounding crack.

            "Oh sorry, sorry," Dawn shrieked. "Are you ok?"

            She rubbed at her stinging forehead and the boy mirrored her. His hand pushed back his hair to reveal a strange lightening shaped scar in the middle of his brow.  He looked confused for a moment, as if he were listening to something. When he looked at her again the smile had returned.

            "I suppose my chances of doing this is suavely have gone down the toilet, but would you like to join me for coffee anyway?"

            "Sure!" Dawn said excitedly. "But I thought everybody here drank tea?"

            The boy looked confused again, but then shrugged.

            _Oh great!  You've just insulted and stereo typed the entire population of his country_, she thought to herself. But he wasn't calling her a damn yank or storming off or anything.     

            "Hang on one second. I've got to tell my, um…tour guide where I'm going. One second!"

            She nearly sprinted to Giles. Her mind whirled, trying to come up with a good reason for Giles to let her wander off with a strange boy she just met. _I probably should have asked for his name_, she thought.  She put on her best "I'm an adult and can do what I want" face, then reconsidered and changed over to her "I'm responsible but will start to cry if you say no" face.  Giles looked up from the souvenirs as she stopped in front of him. She started to extol the virtues of cultural exchange, but noticed right away that he wasn't really listening. He was looking at something over her shoulder.

            Giles tackled her.

            Dawn let out a shriek and a red light flashed in her face, blinding her. Giles landed on top of her, slamming the air out of her lungs. She tried to push the unconscious man off of her legs. Her hair was falling in her eyes but she saw the boy coming toward her. He had a piece of wood in his hand, about the size of a drum stick, and the end of it was glowing with sickly green light. He pointed it at her and she shrieked at the top of her lungs. The boy flinched and stepped back for a second, but only for a second.

            "Somebody help me! Please!"

            As if answering her plea, tennis shoes squeaked on the over waxed floor. The boy turned and disappeared in an avalanche of Hawaiian print. _Xander__ might be a goof ball, but he has great timing_, Dawn thought as she rolled Giles over onto his back. As she checked his pulse, Xander and the boy went crashing through a rack of magazines. The glowing stick fell from the boy's hand. Dawn cheered as Xander landed a lung collapsing punch, and then pulled the boy to his feet by the collar of his shirt. Dawn snatched up the glowing stick just as a security guard arrived.

            "What's going on then?" the guard demanded, goggling at the mess they'd made of the gift shop.

            "This little psycho attacked us," Xander said, shaking the boy by his shirt collar.

            The guard looked doubtful. "Well all of you will have to give statements when the police arrive. I think I'd better hold on to the boy till then."

            Xander shrugged and shoved the boy over to the guard, who caught the boy's arm and cuffed his hands behind his back. Dawn couldn't help but think the guard's movements looked somehow strange and wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on why. The guard turned toward her next.

            "I don't know what that thing is," he said, nodding to the glowing stick in her hand, "But I think I'd better hang onto it until the police take over."

            Dawn wanted to argue, but couldn't think of anything to say that didn't make her sound like a raving lunatic. _No you can't have the magic wand! That'll work._ The guard stretched out his hand and leaned forward. She dropped it in his palm. It fell right through. Dawn gawked, open mouthed. Before she could form a coherent thought the boy stepped right through the fading form of security guard and snatched it up.

            Xander charged forward but the boy turned and shouted something in Latin. Ropes flew from the end of the wand and Xander fell, bound and gagged at the boy's feet. Dawn snatched up a very heavy looking paper weight and chucked it at the back of the boy's head, but he whirled and shouted, and in the next instant the weight was sailing right back at her. She dodged, but the weight crashed into the shot glass display behind her, and broken souvenirs rained down on her. She shrieked again, wondering where all the real security guards were. Having run out of other options and things to throw Dawn turned to run. The boy shouted again.

            "Impedimenta!"

            It felt as if she'd just leapt into a swimming pool full of glue. She pushed as hard as she could, her legs shaking with effort, but she barely progressed a centimeter.

            "Somebody help!" she screamed again.

            There was a crack like a gun shot and a blue light struck Dawn. She started to scream again but as the light hit her, the gluey feeling faded away and she fell forward onto her hands and knees. Another light flew by her and she heard another strange Latin phrase echoing in the air.

            "Immobulus!"

            Dawn turned and saw the boy frozen half way through taking a step. His eyes turned and blinked but he was other wise still.   A man in a threadbare gray suit and cloak was striding across the terminal towards them. His face was pale and sick looking and he had dark circles under his eyes. He had a wand in his hand and blue light glowed at the end of it. He was shaking, but Dawn couldn't tell if it was from anger or illness. He walked right up to the boy and poked him, tentatively in the shoulder. Apparently proving solid, the man took the wand out of the boy's hand. He inspected it before slipping it into one of his coat pockets. He rapped the boy rather sharply on the side of the head with his wand, and the boy began to move again. The boy hung his head.

            "Harry, what in God's name have you done?"

            The boy, Harry, started to answer but the sick man cut him off again.

            "That thing you conjured up in your room, do you have any idea what it's capable of? Your Aunt and Uncle and Cousin, they could've all been killed, not to mention the members of the Order sent to find you. What did you summon?"

            "I didn't summon anybody Professor Lupin," Harry said. "She came on her own."

            "Who came?" Lupin said. The shaking returned.

            While they spoke, Dawn tip-toed around behind them and began to untie Xander.

            "Mum. My mum came. She knows Professor." The boys voice became almost awed.

            "Knows what?" Lupin asked, nearly whispering.

            "She told me how to get Sirius back," Harry said. "We can save him. We can still save him."

            For a moment the Professors face reflected the boy's hopeful expression, but then his face fell and he looked worse then before. He grabbed the boy's shoulders.

            "Harry, whoever has been telling you these things is not your mother. Lily is dead Harry, and so is Sirius. They can't come back from that. You're being manipulated."

            "I'm not. It's her. It really is her. I know she's dead Professor. That's how she knows how to get Sirius back. He isn't dead yet, he's still caught up in the veil. We can save him. All we need is her."

            Dawn looked up from her untying and saw them both staring at her. The Professor pulled the boy farther away.

            "Harry, leave those muggles alone."

            "You don't understand. The girl, she isn't real!"

            Dawn felt her stomach drop. She got through the knot and Xander wiggled free of the ropes. The boy struggled to get away from the professor, trying to get at Dawn.

            "She's not real," the boy declared again. "She's the Key. We need her blood…"

            "Harry stop it!" The Professor gave him a sharp shake.

            "No! Listen to me! I'm telling the truth. Ask her. Ask Her!"

             "Ask her what?" The professor said, exasperated. "Harry…"

            "Listen to him Remus."

            Everyone in the gift shop turned to look at the red haired woman who had just appeared in their midst. She was young, with a kind face, and bright green eyes. She wore a cream colored dress, thick with embroidery. Her feet did not quite touch the floor as she walked towards them. The professor was so surprised he lost his grip on Harry, who scrambled over to his dead mother's side.

            "You can still save him Remus," the woman said. "It isn't too late. Sirius waited in Azkaban for twelve years. He waited for you save him, but you never came.  Don't do that to him again Remus. Help us open the veil and get him back. Don't leave him in hell again."

            "You aren't Lily Potter," the Professor said, shaking worse then ever. "Harry, that is not your mother. Come back here." He waved rather desperately at the boy.

            Xander was slapping Giles lightly on the side of the face, trying to wake him.

"It's her professor! Ask her anything!" The boy called.

            "If you're Lily, then…then…"

            Dawn got to her feet. "Don't listen to her!" She pointed at the red haired woman. "That's the First!"

            "The first what?" asked the Professor.

            "That's the First Evil!" Dawn was starting to shriek but she didn't care. They thought the First had been destroyed months ago, but here it was again, trying to kill them again, and Buffy was on the other side of the ocean. "The First can take the form of anyone who's dead. It knows everything, but it can't touch you! Don't listen to it."

            The professor looked her in the eye, and she saw that he believed her. The First saw it too. She whispered something to the boy. He raised his hand.

            "Accio wands!" Harry cried.

            The wands flew from the Professor's hand and pocket. The boy caught them, smirking slightly. The Professor stood there, mouth tightly shut, waiting.

            "It is her Professor. Come with us. Help us save him!"

            "Harry, don't do this. Its some kind of trap," the Professor said.

            The boy looked rather saddened by his response. "I'm sorry Professor."

            His arm moved so fast Dawn could barely track its motion.

            "Obliviate!" Harry shouted.

            A blue light struck the Professor and he collapsed on the gift shop floor. Xander was already in motion. He shoved Dawn out the door of the shop, and the two of them raced through the terminal, their desperate flight ignored by those they passed. A pretzel cart exploded to their left and a baggage train toppled over on their right. Xander rushed her towards an emergency exit. They sprinted towards it but the boy shouted and a light flew past them, striking the door. Xander plowed into it full tilt, and bounced back onto the floor, winded. There was no where else to go. Xander staggered to his feet and stood between Dawn and the boy. They stared at each other.

            "You aren't touching her," Xander growled.

            "You're going to stop me?" the boy scoffed.

            Xander dove towards him, but he wasn't nearly fast enough. A red light struck him and rolled back across the floor, coming to a stop against Dawn's legs. Xander's eye patch had come off. Dawn fought down her nausea as she looked down at the empty spot in her friend's face.  He was still breathing though. The boy was pointing the wand at her.

            "Imperio!" 

             The world faded away.


	7. Divide and Be Conquered

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 6: Divide and Be Conquered**

            "There are places upon this earth where reality as we know it has thinned. The world we occupy is only one of innumerable planes of existence and in the thin places it is sometimes possible to cross from one world to the next."

            The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry paused. A few of the forty assembled in the crowded hall suspected it was for dramatic effect, but the rest leaned forward in nervous anticipation. The Headmaster waved his thin, age spotted hand and images bleed into being on the stone behind him. The drawing of a free standing stone arch, draped in a ragged black veil expanded to cover the entire wall.

 "The Arch in the Department of Mysteries was formed around one of these thin places. It was created using a form of magic thought lost to us, and it is the only known stable passage between this world and another. Though the exact process of its creation was not recorded, a history of the disastrous aftermath survives to this day; hundreds died, thousands went mad, and terrible beings were allowed access to our world. No human being has passed through the Arch alive. The Arch leads only to death."

            "Yesterday morning I dispatched several members of the Order to Number Four Privet Drive, to determine the condition of Harry Potter, who had failed to check in during the preceding week.  He was not in residence, and an as yet unidentified being had assumed his form. The being seems capable of penetrating the thoughts and memories of those in its presence, and shows a disturbing ability to disrupt and redirect magical energies. It caused a werewolf to transform in broad daylight."

            The room filled with muttering and eyes darted about, searching and realizing that Remus Lupin was not among them. Dumbledore raised his hands for silence. The images on the wall changed again. Most of those assembled understood none of the strange drawings and symbols. Those who did struggled to control their panic.

            "It's not possible!" cried Professor Vector dramatically.

            Severus Snape rolled his eyes, but said nothing as Headmaster Dumbledore waited for the room to settle. To his left Molly Weasley was twisting a handkerchief into a worried little knot.

            "These symbols were found painted and scratched into the walls of Harry's bedroom. From what we were able to interpret, Harry has been shown a way to create another gateway between worlds, another Arch. I believe it is his intention to use that gateway in an attempt to rescue Sirius Black."

            "It is also my belief that Harry is more or less completely under the influence of the being discovered in his relative's home. Its intentions can hardly be presumed altruistic. We must stop Harry from opening a gateway. This crisis takes precedence over all other tasks, even the battle against Voldemort. An unstable gateway has the potential to destroy not just the area around which it is formed, but the very fabric of reality."

"Our efforts to locate Harry have so far failed, and it is likely that he has already left England.  The spell we found will only work in a place where reality is already unstable. We do not know which of the thin places he is heading for, so we must guard them all. There are one hundred and twenty seven known 'thin places', located around the globe."

Again he waved his hand and again the wall changed. This time a map of the earth appeared. The thin places were each marked with a sickly green pinpoint of light. Next to each green light a name appeared.

            "I have assigned a guardian to each thin spot. Those of you given this duty should travel there as fast as is humanly possible. Harry must not be allowed to open a gateway. Do not hesitate to use force. The being orchestrating this disaster has the ability to take the form of people you know. Do not be fooled and do not abandon your post unless Fawkes brings you specific instruction to do so.  Send in reports every five hours. Godspeed."

            The Order of the Phoenix rose from their seats and dispursed. Most face wore expressions of shock and disbelief. Albus Dumbledore stood at the front of the room, waiting for those whom he knew would have questions. Molly Weasley reached him first.

            "Headmaster, what happened to Remus?"

            Dumbledore had expected her first question to be about Harry, as he was such a close friend to her youngest son, but he was not overly surprised.

            "He went missing from his hospital room at St. Mungo's last night.  I ordered him to report to headquarters as soon as he was released, but apparently he felt he should continue searching for Harry on his own. I am a bit disappointed."

            Mrs. Weasley nodded and stepped back as Tonks put forth her question.

            "Sir, I can't help but notice my territory on the map is rather…huge," the young Auror said, pointing to the large green blob, covering most of the western United States.

            Dumbledore nodded. "That area is the most troublesome. The actual location of the thin place in that region is not precisely known. Professor Trelawney will supply you with some divining equipment, to help you locate the exact dimensions of that particular instability.  To be honest Nymphadora, I do not believe Harry will venture as far as California, when there are many more easily accessible locations here in Europe and in the Eastern United States. In all likely-hood you will be called to assist Professor Snape in New York, or Mrs. Fenn in Cleveland. We cannot, however, afford to leave any potential gateway unguarded. Besides, a bit of cartography will help to pad your resume, should you ever apply for a promotion."

            Tonks nodded and stepped back, her eyes wandering over the map once again. Snape glided into her place.

            "Headmaster?" He waited for Dumbledore to nod before he continued to speak. "You know what is required to open such a gateway, what must be sacrificed. Do you really think the boy is capable of that?"

            Molly Weasley elbowed her way back into the conversation. "Sacrifices! What does he mean?"

            "To create the Arch, according to the spell discovered in Potter's room, a certain amount of life force is needed," Snape answered coldly, watching the woman cringe. "It can be acquired with quantity or quality. Potter will either need to murder a few very powerful people, or hundreds of less useful ones."

            "He wouldn't!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, looking very enraged. The few people still occupying the room watched, slightly frightened. "Harry is a good child. He would never murder!"

            Snape looked back with cold indifference. "That remains to be seen."    

            Dumbledore's shoulders sagged. "Severus, do you have anything else to say before you go?"

            The sallow faced man nodded, and then glared at Molly Weasley until she stomped out of hearing range.

            "The books stolen from my library yesterday afternoon all pertained to human sacrifice as a means of multiplying magical energies. He intends to go through with it. I do not believe the boy can be saved."

            "That remains to be seen Severus."


	8. I heart NY

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 7: I ****Heart****N.Y.******

She tried to move her little finger, just a bit, just enough to touch the glass of the tiny window. It didn't work. She wanted to cry but she couldn't. All she could do was watch as the plane circled, and then dropped shuttering onto the runway. The stewardess said something, but Dawn wasn't really listening. _We're back in __New York__._

That gave her some hope. Her sister was in the same city. She'd be rescued any minute, and they'd get a call from Xander and Giles saying everything was fine, and that the airline was providing them with free tickets for life to make up for their terrible security. Everything would be fine. _No it won't! _Dawn struggled with the suffocating calm that would not let her worry properly. She wished she'd read more of Willow's magic books. She couldn't remember anything about mind control spells.

"Get up," the boy said.

She'd cling to the armrests and kick and scream, but she couldn't. She got up.

"Follow me."

Dawn glared at him. It had no effect. Whatever magic he'd used to take over her mind, he didn't seem to be listening to her thoughts. Maybe he just didn't care. She was hopping he'd pass out. He hadn't slept at all on the plane. Unfortunately, despite the bags under his eyes, he was completely alert. He hadn't gone to the bathroom either. _I hope you burst a kidney!_ She glared again.

They walked off the plane, through the terminal. They cut the line in customs and no one stopped them. Dawn tired to force the strange floating feeling out of her mind. She felt as if she'd been pushed out of her own body, and an impenetrable wall of marshmallows had sprung up to prevent her return. _I hate you! _She thought as hard as she could. The boy did not respond.

Dawn's eyes wandered over the crowds in the airport. An Asian man was pointing out some sort of display to his rather bored looking family. Two men in suits argued over the ownership of an unlabeled black suitcase. A man stood by the information desk looking a map. His shoulder length greasy black hair hid most of his pale face. Something about him wasn't right. _He's wearing a dress_, she though. _Or he's a really ugly she._ He passed out of sight and she couldn't turn her head. She tried to step on the back of the boy's shoe. It didn't work.

They walked out of the international terminal and crossed to continental flights. The boy stopped and looked up at the departure board.

"L.A.X., leaves in twenty minutes," the boy muttered. He grabbed her wrist. "Hurry up."

As he dragged her through the terminal, a dark shadow caught the corner of her eye. She couldn't turn her head, but she rolled her eyes as far as she could. The man in the dress was following them. That made her a bit hopeful. _Maybe it's not a dress, maybe it's a superhero costume_. _Yeah, right. _The boy must have noticed something too, because he veered suddenly and pulled her through a door marked "Employees only". He slammed the door behind them. They were in a hallway. It smelled moldy and the flickering fluorescent strip-lights made her eyes twitch.

"Don't make a sound," he ordered.

Dawn glared, but obeyed. She strained her ears but couldn't tell if the man was coming towards the door or not. They stood silently for several minutes. The boy was still holding her wrist. His hand was cold and wet. He let go and checked his watch. He took the wand from his pocket and reached for the handle of the door.

BANG!

Dawn wanted to duck as the sound echoed off the walls, but she was stuck standing statue still, facing the door.

"Going somewhere Potter?" asked a low sneering voice.

"I am actually," the boy answered.

"Drop the wand now and perhaps you'll still have higher brain function for the journey back Hogwarts."

The boy laughed. It was a low unnerving sound that reverberated through the narrow hallway. "You're going to stop me Snivellus? I don't see that happening. Go back to Dumbledore. Tell him he can find another puppet."

"Oh, So the Golden boy has quit? I certainly didn't see that coming." The man in the dress sneered. "You're going to have to tell the headmaster yourself, Potter. I'm not your messenger."

"No, you're just a murderer," hissed the boy.

Dawn felt the smothering layers of fluff around her mind loosen. Very slowly she turned her head.

"Am I? What are you planning to do with that muggle Potter? Couldn't find a date perhaps? I dare say you've lost the moral high ground boy."

"Shut up Death Eater. I know you're still working for Voldemort!"

The man in the dress flinched a bit as the boy shouted the strange name. He recovered immediately. "If that were true you'd have been dead long ago boy. I don't have time for this idiocy. While you're throwing a temper tantrum more worthy people are dying at the Dark Lord's hands."

The boy leveled his wand at the greasy haired man. Dawn could see them bother shaking with barely controlled rage. She also felt the boy's control slipping. She took a very slow step towards the door.

"As if you care! You knew he was putting things in my head! You knew it wasn't real! You let him die!" As the boy shouted red light blasted from the end of the wand. The man in the dress flicked his own wand and the light was deflected into the wall, scorching it.

"Still blaming your idiocy on me? As I recall Black died trying to save you from the mess you made." The man smirked as he spoke.

"SHUT UP!" the boy roared.

This time it was a green light that flew from his wand. The man in the dress shouted something as well and the green light crashed into a thin net of blue lightening. The man in the dress staggered backward. The strip-lights along the right side of the hall burst in a shower of sparks and glass. Dawn took another step, and the boy ignored her. He advanced on the faltering man.

"Expelliarmus!"

The boy's voice was low and confident again. A red light flew from his wand and struck the man, slamming him into the concrete floor. The wand flew from his hand, and like some sort of crazy boomerang in went straight into the boy's out stretched palm.

"You were saying something Snape? You were saying something about this being my mess?"

The door was right in front of her. The boy wasn't looking. He'd forgotten her, but she couldn't turn away from the unraveling scene. The man propped himself up on his elbows, struggling to catch his breath.

"Potter…it has always been…your mess. Before you were born…it was your mess."

Dawn wished he would shut up. He didn't seem to be helping the situation. The air around them was getting colder it seemed. The boy stood over the prone man, glaring down at him with a look of hate that would have given the Slayer chills. The man didn't seem overly concerned. Dawn say his eyes slide over the wands loosely held in the boy's hands. She knew what he was thinking. She knew he wouldn't be fast enough. The man in the dress lunged for the wands.

With inhuman speed the boy's foot slammed into the man's stomach, crumpling him in half and sending him sliding further down the hall. The boy walked after him, unhurried.

"You knew what I meant in Umbridge's office, when I told you Padfoot was trapped. You knew didn't you?" the boy asked.

The man glared up at him, silent.

"I asked you a question!" he shouted and delivered another kick to the fallen man. There was a sickening pop as the boy's shoe struck the man's chest. The wands dropped to the ground, forgotten. The man tried to grab the boy's ankle and pull him off his feet, but the boy seemed to be planted to the ground with iron rivets. The boy bent down and grabbed the front of the man's dress. He dragged the man upright and pinned him against the wall.

"You knew Voldemort was putting things in my head! You knew what was behind that door! You knew about the Prophesy!"

The man coughed and blood ran down his chin and splattered the boy's cheek. He grabbed at the boy's wrists and tried to push him away, eyes widening as his efforts failed. "I knew…you'd do something stupid…whether I told you or not."

The boy let go and the man tried to move away but a second later a hand caught his throat and he was slammed against the wall again. His greasy head struck hard and his eyes grew unfocused. He gasped for air.

"THIS IS YOU'RE FAULT!" the boy bellowed.

The man struggled to focus. The boy stepped back and let him sink to the floor on his knees. Dawn let go the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. _It's over._ Then the boy glanced at her. He had darkness for eyes.

The man brought up his arms but it didn't do him any good. They were knocked easily aside as blows rained down on him. It was less then a minute before he stopped fighting back. The boy didn't stop. He scooped up the limp body and threw him further down the hall.

They were thirty feet away, almost at the end of the corridor. It was a better head start then she could have hoped for. Dawn looked at the door. The boy wouldn't even notice her going. She turned back as another cracking sound echoed up the hall. She couldn't do it.

She knew her feet were moving. She felt them hit the ground and she felt the shock in her knees and spine. She knew what she was doing, but the why of it never quite caught up to her. She squared her shoulders. Her tackle caught the boy in the lower back.

They went flying over the unconscious man, and rolled across the floor. The hall turned toward a staircase, and before the boy could get to his feet Dawn kicked him toward the stairs. He rolled over the edge, but his hand darted out and caught her ankle as he went. Dawn got out half a scream before her back struck the edge of a step and the air was forced out of her lungs. They bounced down to the next floor, landing in a tangle at the bottom of the steps.

Dawn gasped. She was too dizzy to stand. She kicked herself free and started to crawl away. He landed on her back and his hand caught her hair, pulling mercilessly. She screamed.

"Imperio!"

The marshmallows returned.


	9. Near Miss

Disclaimer: Capri sun juice drinks and Wet-nap pre-moistened napkins are probably trade marked, please don't sue me.  

Author's notes: Thanks very much reviewers.

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 8: Near Miss**

            A wall of sweltering air hit her full in the face as she pulled open the back doors of the van. Even the underground parking area was not immune to New York's scorching summer. They'd opened every window they could, but Xander and Giles were soaked in sweat, and the thin sickly looking man seated between them didn't look any more comfortable. Not that anyone looked comfortable jammed between an angry one eyed carpenter and an angrier former librarian, with their wrists and ankles chained together.

            "Nobody's seen them," Buffy declared as she crawled onto the thin crumb infested carpet of the van. "Your contacts from the council got the wrong plane."

            "I am certain they did not," Giles said calmly. He took off his glasses and tried to wipe the steamed-up lenses, but as his shirt was damp it didn't do much good. "The security cameras showed them boarding flight 489. Since they did not purchase tickets, I think it is rather obvious the boy used some sort of spell to hide himself and Dawn from notice. It's possible it hid them when they got off the plane as well."

            "I waited in front of their gate Giles. I was there two whole hours before they landed. I would have sensed them! Willow was there too."

            "The First's gotten around her spells before, Buffy," Xander added. "Where is Will anyway?"

            "She went to check out the J.F.K. security cameras. She told me it'd be easier for her to sneak a peek if I wasn't following her around glaring and threatening. I came to get a look at him." Buffy nodded to the sickly looking man.

            Xander had called her from a plane, the one they'd managed to catch an hour and a half after finding out where the boy was taking Dawn. Giles had wasted a whole hour getting a fake passport so they could bring the man with them. They made it pretty clear that the man knew the kidnapper, who was named Harry apparently. Xander had said the sickly looking man had tried to help them before the boy hit him with a spell. Giles thought it was some sort of memory spell. Buffy stared at the man, Lupin, according to Xander. Lupin started back, and there was something in his eyes that made her skin crawl.

            Before he could react Buffy grabbed him by the shirt front and dragged him off the bench, onto his knees.

            "Who's the kid and where is he taking my sister?" She growled.

             Lupin blinked in surprise, then bared his teeth and growled back. It was a low rumbling sound that seemed out of the range of human vocal cords. When Buffy did not react the man went back to staring at her blankly.

She gave him tooth rattling shake. She had a bad feeling about him, and the growl only confirmed her suspicions; this man wasn't human. If he'd just turn into a demon or something she could pound information out of him. She raised her fist.

"Buffy stop!" Xander said, diving forward to catch her arm.

"Buffy. Stop," Lupin said in a very quite monotone.

"He knows something. He has to! How could you let this happen!" she shouted.

She pushed Lupin roughly away and he tipped over, across Xander and Giles' feet. They helped him up.

"How could I let this happen?" Buffy said, slumping against the side of the van. "The whole thing was a set up. The dream, the First must have sent it to me. They probably aren't even heading for Sunnydale."

"Ok. Let's not freak out," said Xander, who was a bit baffled by the Slayers sudden mood swings. "What ever the First is planning, we know it needs Dawn alive, and we know it has something to do with that weird Harry kid, so we'll call up the reserves, do some research and save the day. Come on Buffy, we're going to find her, kick evil's ass and go out for Chinese. Just because we haven't averted an apocalypse in a few months is no reason to think we've lost our edge."

Buffy nodded woodenly. They weren't too late. Dawn would be fine. Dawn could take care of herself. No matter how many times she said it, she didn't believe it. Dawn nearly strangled herself on four separate occasions, getting her scarf caught in the revolving door at Macy's.

Waiting in the van for Willow to contact them did not get anymore pleasant as the afternoon wore on. Xander brought out a case of Capri sun pouches, and handed them out. Giles looked very confused by the futuristic beverage container and handed it to Buffy. She forced a laugh and expertly stabbed the straw through the little dot in the top. Lupin watched her carefully, and attempted to open his own tropical punch flavored corn syrup. A jet of pink liquid hit him squarely in the eye. His face fell, and he looked near tears. Xander tried to calm him down, and handed him a wet-nap, but Lupin just stared at the little package, juice dripping down onto his shirt front.

Buffy realized then, how bad off he was. When Willow had accidentally done a memory spell on all of them, they had at least retained general knowledge. They could talk and make use of the postal service, but this guy... She felt more then a little guilty about pushing him around. That didn't mean she trusted him either. He had bad vibes that went well beyond the normal magic-happy human range. _Will can set him right_, she thought, watching Xander go into soccer mom mode and try to clean up their juice spattered prisoner. It might have been funny if it wasn't so damn sad.

"Come on," Xander cajoled. "You're going to have bees after you."

Lupin put up his hands once again to fend of the wet-nap. "Bees!" he said a bit desperately.

 **_"Hey guys?"_** Willows voice echoed in their heads.

"What's up?" Buffy asked.  

**_"I found footage of the kid jacking a car. He pointed his wand at the driver, there was a flash of light, and then he and Dawn climbed in. The driver was in complete zombie mode. It was a red Volvo. I couldn't get the plates. They left about an hour ago."_**

Buffy started to interrupt.

**_"There's more. When I was tracking them through the airport on the different cameras I saw them duck down a service corridor. Ten minutes later they came back out, and the boy had blood all over him."_**

"Did he hurt her?" Buffy growled.

**_"No but I'm there now. The paramedics are picking up what's left of the other guy. Do you want to see?"_**

As Buffy thought "yes" her eyes went dark for an instant. When she opened them she was standing in a crowd of gawkers. A man in black robes was wheeled by. His face was red and purple pulp and they'd strapped him to a backboard with a neck brace and the whole deal. His left wrist looked very wrong and his sleeve had been pushed up to reveal a skull tattoo that just screamed "I'm an evil cult member!" Sensing her thoughts Willow responded.

**_"I don't think he's a good guy either, but I'm going to go with him and see what he knows."_**

Buffy nodded, and a second later she was back looking through her own eyes at Xander and Giles.

"It's time to call up the cavalry," she declared.

Xander stared at her for a moment.

"What?" Buffy said.

"You're the only one with a cell phone."


	10. The Edge

Author's note: Thanks hobbitfoot for the paramedic info!

**A Well in the ****Dead ****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 9: The Edge**

Darkness.

Pain.

Motion.

He was aware of his physical self only vaguely. He knew he was dying. He gathered himself. He prepared. As a ghost he could at least contact the headmaster. Perhaps he could hold himself together long enough to know vengeance. He had to remember. So often, ghosts forgot. He focused his magic, struggling to gather enough of his fading strength to create an anchor for his soon to be disembodied soul.

"**_HEAR ME."_**

Something dragged him back.

It all came rushing back.

Pain.

His chest burned as he tried to draw breath.

Broken bone grated against broken bone.

His heart fluttered.

His head was agony.

**_"HEAR ME."_**

Another mind was pushing its way into his. He tried to force it out but he could not focus. An alien presence was sifting through his thoughts.

**_"ANSWER."_****__**

Fire shot up his arm as someone grabbed his shattered left hand.

**_"ANSWER."_****__**

Sound returned.

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.**

A thick brace was strapped around his neck. His head was strapped down and he could not move it, though he had no desire to. Two men were talking.

"Unequal pupils… "

"Alert and oriented times zero…"

"…on route to Mercy General…"

Snape tried to swallow. He gagged and tasted blood. Something was strapped over his face, and the air he breathed had a metallic tang. He opened his eyes. The right one was swollen so badly he couldn't see. Suddenly a bright light was blinding his left one.

"Holy $#%! He's conscious!" muttered one of the men, clearly amazed.

Muggles, Snape thought. He was in one of those auto cars on the way to a muggle hospital. He was going to be butchered. He knew he was going to die, but the thought of being cut open before it happened filled him with unaccountable dread. The strange beeping increased in frequency.

"See if you can calm him down ma'am," the muggle said.

A young woman with unnaturally red hair leaned into his field of vision. "Don't worry we're almost there," she said in a patronizingly gentle tone. He glared at her, and the second their eyes met, he realized who was rattling about in his mind.

**_"Can you hear me now?" _**she projected.

**_"Yes I can. Get out."_** He tried to push her away again but she was at least equally skilled in Legilimency, and at that moment much more powerful.

**_"No. I need to know about the boy that did this to you."_**

**_ "You'll get nothing from me. Go away."_**

**_"He kidnapped my friend's little sister. You'll tell me or I'll just take what I need."_**

As those thoughts flowed into his mind the woman's eyes turned entirely black. He struggled, and his heart gave a terrifying shudder.

**BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!**

His body drifted away, but as he tried to focus his magic, to find an anchor for his soul, a freezing darkness wrapped around him. Again he was dragged back. His eyes flew open. One of the woman's hands rested on his forehead and the other on his chest. He felt an awful corrupt power pouring into him, forcing his bones back into place, melting and reforming the damaged veins. He tried to scream but could not get enough air. The woman stared down at him with soulless black eyes and thick purple veins standing out of her skin. She stopped then and sat back. She'd made sure he wouldn't die anytime soon, but he was a long way from healed. Snape's working eye drifted towards the muggle, who was cowering in the corner of the auto car.

**_"Tell me about the boy. His name is Harry?"_**

He fought. He emptied his mind of emotion and feeling until nothing but cold darkness remained. Even then he could not escape her horrible will. A shaking **_"Yes."_** Was drawn to the forefront of his thoughts, and a gagging attempt at speech escaped his lips. He did not give up, but as she asked the answers came to her.

**_"How do you know him?"_**

**_"Student…he is a student at the school where I teach."_**

**_"Teach?"_**

**_"Potions…teach the brats to make potions…not one of them worthy of my time…"_**

**_"Why did Harry kidnap Dawn?"_**

**_"Dawn?"_**

**_"My friend's sister._****_ Her name is Dawn. What is Harry planning to do with her?"_**

Snape fought to cover the information, to bury it under his most vile memories, but the witch pushed through them, unphased by the worst torments of his life. Images of the Arch flowed up, and the spell they had copied from the walls of Potter's room were hers for the taking. She saw the requirement of sacrifice. She searched deeper, looking over all he knew of Arithmancy and the Arch in the Department of Mysteries.

"**_You do not know where he is going?"_** she sent, even though she could see the answer.

**_"No."_**

**_"Others will try to stop him?"_**

**_"Yes."_**

**_"Where are these others?"_**

Even as she asked it he knew what would happen. The Order was hidden by a Fidelius Charm, and no one but Dumbledore could give up its location. The ancient magic weighed down on him, and he could not answer.

**_"Where are they?"_** the witch repeated.

Her hand came to rest on his forehead and vile hateful power ran through him again, but it could not break the charm. As she pried his mind apart, the charm pushed him farther down. He could not fight either force, and was lost in the storm.

When he woke again it was dark, except for the tiny lights on the machines towering on either side of his hard uncomfortable bed. His arms were filled with tubes and needles, and there were little wires glued to his chest. He still couldn't move his head. There was tube in his throat. He hurt everywhere, but he felt strangely detached. Whatever drugs the muggles were pumping into him kept him from focusing enough to move.

"Severus darling, you look absolutely terrible!" declared a high and almost child like voice.

He was certain his heart stopped for an entire minute. He realized then that the Dark Mark on his arm was aching dully. He'd missed a summons from the Dark Lord. They had sent Bellatrix Lestrange to check up on him. Slowly she came into his field of vision. She wore her skull like Death Eater's mask. Her manicured nails went to pick at the needles going into his arm.

"Our Lord was most disappointed when you didn't come, but I suppose this is a good enough excuse. You reek of Muggles, did you know?"

He tried to answer her but could only gag.

"This won't due," she raised her wand and muttered.

He thought he recognized a translation charm and tried again. His own ears heard only choking gurgles, but Bellatrix seemed to understand well enough.

"I couldn't come. I was unconscious," he said.

She pulled one of the needle sharply, and it tore free of his arm. He winced, surprised that that pain stood out against all the others.

"We know that. You're going to tell me why. Why would our little potions professor be fleeing the mother land? Not planning to defect are you?"

As she spoke her fingers came to hover tentatively over another needle.

"Was sent to look for Potter."

"Really?" she said.

Her hand moved away from the needle in his arm, and came to rest on his sore and struggling chest. Snape would later blame the drugs and the head injures Potter had given him for what he said next. He would justify his actions as well. The boy had to be stopped and the Order could not do it alone. Even Dumbledore said the current crisis was more important then the battle against the Dark Lord. The more searchers the better. The truth, though would weigh on him for a long time after.

"Potter is trying to open the Arch and retrieve your dear cousin. Dumbledore believed the boy has found some new source of power. The entire Order is searching for him. I found him first and attempted to capture him for our Lord. You must warn him, Lestrange. Whatever Potter has tapped into…I have never seen anything like it. You must warn the Dark Lord."

"As if a mere boy could threaten him!" she scoffed, apparently forgetting the entire sixteen year history between Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter.

"You think I ended up like this slipping in the bath?" Snape scoffed right back.

"You would compare yourself to our Lord?" she began to rage.

"I would compare myself to any other in his service. The boy is a threat. He must be caught and killed before Dumbledore reaches him. This opportunity will not come again."

Apparently mollified, Bellatrix stepped back. "I will tell our Lord what you have said. He may even come to see you personally. Don't run off anywhere."

Snape managed to glare at her, though the action caused him much more discomfort then it did her. She raised her wand, about to disapparate, but paused as if suddenly remembering.

"One more thing Severus. Don't miss another summons."

He knew what was coming, but all he could do was glare hatefully.

_"Crucio!"_


	11. Poisoned Refuge

Disclaimed.

Author's note: Just a question for the readers; are the one scene at a time chapters working or should I do multiple POV's in the same chapter? Commentary would be appreciated.

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 10**

**Poisoned Refuge **

            He was drowning. The darkness bore down on him. It washed through him. He tried to call for help but it poured into his mouth and clotted in his lungs. It filled his stomach, stretching it until he felt he was about to burst.

            "Harry! Wake up darling. The Key is escaping."

            The darkness drew back, fleeing from his mother's voice. He opened his eyes and gasped for air. The nightmare came more and more frequently now. Whenever he slept the darkness came for him. His mother always saved him though. An instant before it was too late, before he was over whelmed, her voice would bring him out of that terrible place. He shook his head to clear it.

            His mother was right. Despite being nearly mummified with rope, the Key was halfway out the car. She had managed to roll down the window somehow, and had wiggled herself through the space. She seemed to have become stuck though, as the windows were child safe, and the bit of glass that wouldn't roll down was digging into her stomach. Harry grabbed her belt and pulled her back in. Her head bounced off the side of the car and she kicked her legs trying to get away from him. She screamed but the sound didn't get past her gag. He wrestled her back onto the seat.

            The driver wasn't giving him nearly so much trouble. She sat passively in her seat and didn't even move without his instructions. He supposed the Key was becoming resistant to the Imperious Curse because she wasn't really a human.

            The Key glared at him and grumbled through her gag. She certainly looked human. She was rather pretty too, with large expressive eyes and a snowy complexion. He reached out to touch her face. She turned her head away, and the sounds coming through the gag became high pitched and panicked. He looked into her eyes and saw fear. Instead of touching her, he pulled out the gag.

            "Keep your hands off me you pervert!" she shrieked hoarsely. "My sister's going to kick your ass! She'll twist your head right off your skinny chicken neck!"

            Harry waved his wand. "Silencio."

            She knew there was a spell on her, but didn't seem to care. Her mouth kept moving and from what he could tell her language was growing more foul by the second. He stretched and looked around. He'd spelled the car to repel notice, but he wanted to make sure nobody had seen the Key's most recent attempt to get away. The rest stop around them was silent. There were a few eighteen-wheelers parked at the far end of the lot, but the drivers showed no interest in them.

They'd been traveling west for almost two days straight. He wasn't sure what state they were in at the moment, but it was unpleasantly hot. They'd stopped a few times for petrol, food, and bathroom breaks, but Harry hadn't slept. He was worried the driver would get loose from his imperious if he let himself relax too much. His mother said she would keep watch while he slept but he was still too worried. It was only when the driver began to slump over the wheel that he relented and allowed them to park.

The Key was still glaring at him, but her mouth had stopped moving. He lifted the silencing charm.

"I have ta' pee," she said.

"You just went," Harry said, frowning.

"That was twelve hours ago!"

"You haven't had anything to drink," Harry responded.

It was true. The Key had refused all food and drink. Even under the imperious he couldn't get her to take more then a few bites, and if he didn't tell her to chew and swallow, she'd just spit everything back out again.

"The human kidney produces at least an ounce of urine every hour whether you drink or not. The average bladder only holds twelve ounces of fluid."

In that moment, her voice reminded him strongly of someone else, another know it all, someone from school, maybe. He tried to think of her name, but it wouldn't come to him.

"You're making that up," Harry said.

"Am not. I got an A in physiology."

"Like that's impressive."

"A's the highest you can get."

"A stands for average."

"Maybe in the freaked out English school system. Over there I'm sure F is the top grade and it's perfectly fine to kidnap random people too!"

"You are not a person," Harry said coldly.

"I am to a person!"

"Prove it."  

"How am I supposed to prove it? You can see, me can't you?" She twisted around and kicked at him with her bound feet. He pushed her feet away. "If I'm not real why are you putting your hands in the way?" She tried to kick him again.

"I said you weren't a person. I never argued that you didn't have physical form."

"Well aren't you so smart!" she said glaring. "Well you're about to have a lot of very real pee all over the back seat of this car if you don't let me go to the bathroom!" she shrieked.

Though he didn't want the Key to think she'd won, he didn't want to ride in a smelly car for another few days either. He waved his wand and the ropes faded to nothing.

"If you try to run I'll stun you," he said, climbing out of the car, and following her across the parking lot.

"Whatever!" she huffed.

He checked the inside of the lady's room. There was no one inside and the windows were too high and too small for the Key to climb out. She took forever. He'd been waiting outside the door for at least twenty minutes before she emerged. She walked past him and headed straight for the car. Something wasn't right. The Key glanced back at him, and her eyes rested on the bathroom door, just a second too long.

"Let's go then," she said.

He raised his wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"

She froze and fell over. He went into the bathroom again. His suspicions were warranted. The Key had found a discarded lip liner and written a message on the wall. "Please help me", followed by a description of him, the car, the plate number, her own name, and her sister's phone number. She noted that he was armed and dangerous and very insane. She even wrote the date at the very bottom. He erased it all.

When he got back outside the Key was right where he left her. Ants were crawling on her face and she couldn't move to brush them away. He felt a grin spread across him face, but at the same time a small voice from deep within him called out. _This is wrong. This is cruel. This isn't you._ He tried to focus on the voice, but it faded back into the darkness. He lifted the curse and the Key jumped to her feet, shrieking and brushing off ants in a panicked dance.

            "My sister's going to kick your ass!" she shrieked again.   

            Suddenly his mother's voice was in his ear.

            "Harry, get back to the car now. They're coming!"

            He grabbed the Key's arm and pulled her into motion. He opened the back door and shoved her in. She tried to jump out the opposite door but he froze her again just as her fingers touched the handle. Tires screeched and he turned.

            THWAP! THWAP!

            The parking lot was filled with a hissing sound as the air escaped the car's rear tires. A dark haired woman in leather pants stood in the back seat of a blue convertible. Her crossbow was already reloaded and aimed at his head. The front doors popped open and two teenage girls sprang out onto the asphalt. One had short blond hair and nose ring. She was armed with a broadsword. The other was Asian and swung an ax back and forth in front of herself in a complicated whirling pattern.

            "Drop the wand and put your hands on your head!" the dark haired woman ordered.

            Harry brought his wand to bear and the woman fired. He didn't need to use magic. He side stepped the bolt and it sailed over his shoulder into the parking lot behind him.

            "Stupefy!" he shouted.

            With inhuman speed the woman dove over the hood of the car, out of the path of the curse. She hit the ground with a neat hand spring and was running towards him in the next instant. The two teenagers were trying to circle around behind him.

            "Serpensortia!" he hissed.

            Suddenly there was power poring though him, more then he could ever have summoned on his own. The air around him glowed and wavered, and in the next instant the ground was covered in a writhing mass of serpents, the smallest of which was twenty feet long.  He did not need to speak. The serpents knew what he wanted.

The teenage girl with the sword shrieked as an unnaturally large cobra reared up in front of her. She swung at it but the snake darted back, out of the way. The dark haired woman stumbled as a python coiled around her ankles, but she kicked it loose a second later, rolling to avoid a pit viper that dove for her face. Harry turned, looking for the girl with the ax. There was thump on the roof of the car.

            He glanced up and the girl dove at him, landing on him and slamming him down on top of the snake covered ground. She slapped the wand away, and pinned both of his wrists above his head with one hand. She was incredibly strong. He felt the bodies of the serpents sliding beneath him, as her weight pressed down from above.  The girl held the blade of the ax to his throat. He could see fear in her eyes. He felt nothing, even as the blade started to dig in.

            "Call off the snakes!" she ordered. 

            "Why would I do that?" he asked.

            He felt her stiffen as a snake slithered over the backs of her legs. He could hear the woman grunt and curse as she fought, and the other teenager called for help. His mother had warned him that the Key was protected by a cult of super strong women who called themselves Slayers. He was a bit surprised he hadn't run into them earlier. He was more surprised at how young they were.

            "Call them off!" the girl ordered again.

He could see she was near panic.

"No," he said.

"Call them off or I'll cut your throat!"

"If you cut my throat, who will tell the snakes not to kill? You don't think they have this much self control on their own, do you?"

The girl looked around again. An Anaconda had wrapped itself around the dark haired woman pinning her arms and legs, and several smaller vipers sat curled by her face. They lunged at her as she tired to move, but they did not bite. The blonde girl with the sword was not faring better. The ground around her was littered with decapitated snakes, but now she stood frozen. A cobra had coiled itself around her shoulders and its tongue flicked against her chin.  Another cobra was slowly slithering up her leg. 

"Let them go! Let them go or I'll kill you!" the girl said.

She was starting to tremble with nervousness. The snakes not busy restraining a Slayer had all migrated over to him, watching with cold interest.

"You're going to kill me?" Harry asked. "Are you a murderer then?"

"I'm not! You are!" she said, her eyes darting from one snake to the next.

"I haven't killed anyone, and I don't intend to. Put the ax down and I'll let you and your friends leave."

"You've got Buffy's sister!"

"She hasn't been harmed. I need her to help me with a spell, and then I'll let her go too. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I will defend myself." Harry wanted to smile. He'd always been a terrible liar, but now the words came so freely. He never realized how much fun it was to be the villain. Even with a blade to his throat, he felt in control. He felt powerful. A small part of his mind cried out that this was wrong, but in the rapture of this new sensation, it was easily ignored. 

"You'll let us go?" she asked.

"You have my word."

"And…and you aren't going to hurt Dawn?"

"Of course not."

The girl looked toward the woman with the long dark hair, but her view was obscured by the myriad of snakes. The ax fell to the ground with a faint clank. The girl let go of his wrists and stood up, her back to the car. Harry raised his hand and his wand flew back to him. He stood in front of the girl, and the snakes closed in around them.

She was only an inch shorter then him. Her dark brown eyes reminded him of someone he knew. He tried to remember who, but the image in his mind was dark and unclear. He remembered a girl, who had come up to him, after…some meeting. They'd stood under the mistletoe. He tried to remember more but the details slipped away. Harry took a step closer to the Asian girl, and she retreated, her back pressing against the side of the car.  Her eyes darted down at the vipers that had begun to wrap themselves around her legs. Harry stepped closer. His legs pressed against hers and he leaned forward. His hands rested on her shoulders. He touched his lips to hers.

The darkness was back in his mind. It was flooding through him, and he realized that it was the source of power he was feeling. He felt freed by it. He had things to do, but they couldn't weigh him down. He had no worries. He had no responsibility. He had nothing and it was the best thing he ever felt.

He tasted something salty on his lips. He opened his eyes and saw tears running slowly down the girl's face.

_Why do girls always cry when I kiss them?_ he thought. _At least she isn't as weepy as Cho_.

Suddenly the darkness vanished. His mind was clear and he blinked in surprise. Cho, his not quite girlfriend from last year, she cried because Cedric was dead. He looked down and saw he was grabbing a stranger, who was shaking in terror. He stepped back, stumbling over the snakes that surrounded them.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Oh Merlin, I'm sorry. I…I…I didn't mean to…"

He ran to the other side of the Volvo and unfroze the Key, pulling her from the car and dragging her to the convertible the Slayers had arrived in. He shoved the Key into the passenger's seat and petrified her again. He started the engine and shifted the car into gear. He didn't really know how to drive, but the vehicle lurched forward as he stepped on the gas. When he was on the other side of the parking lot he aimed his wand back at the Slayers and the snakes.

"Finite!" he shouted.

The snakes evaporated into mist. The dark haired woman was on her feet instantly, charging towards him at an impossible speed, but his foot slammed down on the gas, and she couldn't keep up. As the woman shrunk to nothing in the rearview, Harry took a deep breath. He looked at his own eyes in the mirror, and saw the green was tainted with streaks of unnatural black.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _he thought as he turned onto the interstate.

The question worried him for another hour, until his mother appeared in the passenger seat.


	12. Double the Trouble and Raise the Stakes

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 11**

**Double the Trouble and Raise the Stakes**

"He doesn't look well," said a young male voice.

"Not well at all," said a voice exactly like it.

"Looks like we owe Hermione ten galleons,"

"You're the one who made the bet,"

"You're the one who failed to stop me,"

Fred and George Weasley stood on either side of the hospital bed, looking at the prone and puffy form of the man who was previously their potions professor. They weren't supposed to be there of course, but breaking rules was what the twins did.

Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of their former school, and the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, had forbidden the twins to leave England. Though they respected the man greatly the twins felt no obligation to obey. After all Dumbledore had yet to swear them into the Order, something to do with their inability to follow instruction.

It really was a shame, in their opinion, because they would have made great spies. They had managed to listen in on conversations between numerous members of the Order, and even gotten their hands on a few written reports. They had good reasons of course. Harry Potter had gone missing and no one would tell them anything about it.

"How are we going to get him out of here?"

"I suppose we'll have to take all these wires and tubes out before we use the portkey."

"I don't know if that's a good idea. We should get one of the muggle healers to do it."

"Really George, how would we get them to do that?"

"Our dazzling charm?"

"We'll have to do it ourselves."

They had managed to piece together that Harry was under the influence of some evil entity, and that he was trying to do something with the Arch from the Department of Mysteries. Most of the Order had been called up to search for him. Their mother had been dispatched to Kenya of all places. Unfortunately the twins could dig up no more then that. But then they consulted Hermione Granger.

She'd used that muggle computer machine to look up news from around the world. It took her several days, but the first clue had dropped into her lap early that morning. A news site in New York had mentioned a mysterious man found in the airport. The man had been beaten within an inch of his life and little beyond that, which was not all that unusual for New York, but the fact that the man was wearing a "dress" and appeared to be the member of some "neo-pagan cult" had inspired some bored journalist to write a few paragraphs about him.

Fred and George had taken the international Floo to check the story out. Their younger brother Ron had insisted he was coming too, but as usual they left him behind. Harry was his best mate, but Ron was not gifted when it came to sneaking around unnoticed. They'd left him in charge of their joke shop to make him feel a little better. Of course now they were starting to wish they'd brought him along.

"Fine, but you're removing the catheter."

"What's a catheter?"

One Weasley twin whispered something to the other, who groaned in disgust.

"You're making that up."

"I'm not. Check under his sheets if you don't believe me."

"I'll give that a miss, thanks. You're right though, we need a muggle healer."

They had borrowed one of the Order's emergency Portkeys to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, incase it was Harry they found. Though they were not at all fond of Professor Snape, it was pretty obvious they'd have to use the Portkey on him. Untangling him from all the muggle healing devices was becoming more challenging then they thought possible. Fortunately they were saved from trying to remove the catheter by the arrival of two Death Eaters.

Fred barely managed to duck in time and a blazing red light seared a bit of hair off the side of his head. George fired a hex at the Death Eater nearer to the door. The man dropped his wand and yelped in horror as hundreds of centipedes erupted out of under his mask. The second Death Eater blocked George's next hex and sent a glaring green light back at him. Fred threw the visitor's chair into the path of the curse, giving his brother a chance to roll out of the way.

"STUPEFY!" George bellowed as he slammed to a stop against the side of Snape's bed.

The Death Eater toppled in a wash of red light.

"STUPEFY!" Fred said in the next instant, finishing off the man who was still writhing under a mass of centipedes.

The twins looked towards the door as they heard footsteps rushing up the hall. Fred snatched up the visitor's chair again and stuffed it under the handle. A second later someone pounded on the thin wood and demanded entrance.

"This isn't going so well," said Fred.

"No it is not," his twin confirmed.

There was a muffled groan from the bed. One of Snape's eyes had peeled its scabbed self open, and now peered at them with the utmost loathing. The twins moved to either side of the bed, and Fred took the Portkey out. He placed it in Snape's right, slightly less bandaged hand. His purplish fingers clenched around it.

"You'll be in St. Mungo's in a few seconds," said Fred.

Snape grumbled something that probably wasn't a thank you, but didn't sound like an objection either. George leaned over and tapped the key with his wand. Snape vanished. Fred was momentarily tempted to check under the rumpled sheets to see if the catheter had gone with him, but pushed that idea out of his head. There were some things you were just better off not knowing. There was a great thump against the door, as if the muggle healers had decided to break it down.

"What should we do about them?" George asked, looking at the stunned Death Eaters lying on the floor.

Fred shrugged. "I don't have any truth serum and we'd have a terrible time of trying to question them with out it. Not to mention the huge chance that they'll escape, or lead others to us."

George nodded thoughtfully. There was another thump against the door. Both twins jumped as the sound at the door was immediately followed by a thump against the window. They whirled and saw, and as was not uncommon, they were both struck with the same idea.

The twins had waited on the roof across the street from the hospital, gazing down at the room formerly occupied by Severus Snape. On the window ledge, two black pigeons with unusually white faces crouched, as if afraid to fly away, even as the room behind them whirled with activity. At first they were only waiting to see the transfigured Death Eaters jump off the edge, but as the muggle police arrived, an instinct told them it might be useful to stay and observe their activities as well. That instinct eventually led them to an apartment on New York's lower west side.

An older gentleman with glasses and hair starting to gray at the temples had gone into the hospital room as soon as the police left. Fred and George each took out a pair of improved Omnioculars, which let them see through the wall as well as the window. The man locked the door, after a brief glance into the hallway. Apparently thinking himself free of observation, he took several bags from the pockets of his tweed jacket. The magic that followed was something the twins had never seen before.

Instead of using a wand, the man lit a candle and used it to burn small pinches of herbs from the bags. He was chanting something, but they couldn't hear the words. At first they thought it was some kind of useless muggle mysticism, but then the man threw a handful of red powder into the air, and the room was enveloped in golden light. When the light faded the man was standing by the window. The twins ducked down a little more incase he decided to look up. The man's arm snaked out the window and caught one of the Death Eater Pigeons. The other pigeon decided to take its chances trying to fly, and leapt from the sill. The man didn't seem overly concerned. He stuffed the pigeon into the pocket of his coat and, after collecting the bags he'd used earlier, he walked out. They followed him to his apartment.

The small room they looked down into, through the one way transparency charm they'd placed on the roof, made the Burrow look like a palace. The floor was covered in stacks of books and papers. Diagrams of the Arch were pined to the walls and scrolls depicting ancient runes covered the coffee table and kitchen counter. The man with the glasses was greeted by a petite young woman with artificially red hair. Right away the twins put extendable ears down the ventilation shaft.

"…evidence of a battle of mages. I am rather surprised no one was killed," the man was saying.

He presented the woman with the Death Eater pigeon. The woman inspected the pigeon for a moment before up ending a waste basket and trapping the bird beneath it.

"I'll restore him as soon as Xander gets back with the professor. Faith called in, Giles. She, Ruby and Chelsea caught up with the boy and Dawn in Indiana early this morning. The battle didn't go in their favor, but they weren't seriously hurt. The boy conjured up an army of giant snakes and felt up Ruby and then apologized and stole Faith's car. Whatever the First is doing to that kid, I don't think he's gone entirely over the edge yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Caleb, the other avatar of the First, was all about the evilness and the end of the world you know? But from what Faith said, and from what I managed to get from that creepy guy from the airport, I don't think the kid is beyond our help. We've definitely got to stop him but maybe…he's like I was, with the revenge and the evil and going all dark side and everything."

"Have you told Buffy this?"

"I tried, but she seemed to be stuck in 'he hurt Dawn, I smash face' mode. It would make life a whole lot easier if we could talk him down, but whenever I call her about it she just gets all bossy and asks how I'm doing with the spell and the evil gateway thingy. I'm starting to wish we'd sent Xander with her."

"You have to trust her instincts, Willow. She is the Slayer and she won't take a human life unless it's absolutely necessary."

The man removed his glasses and cleaned them on the edge of his shirt. "Any luck with the locator spell?" he asked after a moment.

"No the First is still obstructing my spells. They must have tampered with the GPS marker in the car as well because I can't find that either. I've sent slayers to all the 'thin spots' I could find in that creepy guy's head. That should give us at least some warning if he tries to take Dawn to one of them. Buffy and Carmen are trying to follow the route the kid took. I think he's headed for Sunnydale."

"That would not surprise me in the least," the man said.

He looked ready to say something else, but they were interrupted by the door opening. A man with messy black hair and an eye patch walked in, followed closely by Professor Lupin. The twins exchanged baffled glances before returning their attention to the room below.

"The potion's working Will!" the dark haired man exclaimed. He turned to Lupin. "Tell her what you told me," he said gently.

"I…I have to be somewhere…I have to go. I can't fail again…" Lupin put his hand to his head and blinked in confusion.

"Here, sit down," the dark haired man said.

He took Lupin's elbow and led him to the couch. After sweeping a mountain of papers onto the floor he waved for the former professor to sit down. Lupin obeyed, looking around the room blankly.

"Can we give him more potion yet?" the dark haired man asked.

"Not for another three hours at least, Xander. We have to remove the memory spell a little bit at a time or it could cause brain damage. I'm not even sure how it was cast in the first place, since I can't find the source of the occluding energy or the focus point…"

"Ok, ok. Any word on Dawn…"

Xander trailed off. The woman's hair was beginning to move as if the room was filled with a sudden breeze, but none of the loose papers were disturbed. Her hair seemed to be changing color as well, the red fading to black. She began to turn in a circle and they realized that her feet were no longer touching the floor.

"Will, what is it?" Xander asked.

The woman looked up then. Not just up at the ceiling, but up through it. Purple veins stood out of her skin. Fred looked down into her obsidian eyes and could not move, even as George pulled desperately on his arm.

"We have uninvited guests," she said.

She snapped her fingers, and instantly the twins found themselves inside the cluttered apartment, chained at the woman's feet.

"This isn't going so well," said George.

"Not well at all," Fred confirmed.


	13. Tonks' Progress

**A Well in the ****Dead****Land******

**By Marz**

**Chapter 12**

**Tonks' Progress**

The pub wasn't exactly awful. The air conditioning was broken and two ancient electric fans were the only source of relief from the sweltering heat. It was crowded, and the doors hung open allowing convenient access for every mosquito and fly that wanted to spend the night. The only food they offered was deep fried, and the waiters were less then friendly to those not purchasing hard liquor. Drunken truckers with amazingly strong B.O. visited her table every other minute, and most of them tried their hardest to spill beer on her maps. Tonks was on her fifth glass of incredibly overpriced ice water, and her shirt was soaked in sweat. The band was pretty good though, so it wasn't exactly awful.

She picked up the abacus again, and slid another bead. Arithmancy was never her best subject, but Trelawney's divining crystals were leading her nowhere, and she had yet to find any sign of a weak spot in the fabric of reality. Bakersfield, the home of this less then stellar pub, was just the last of fifty random locations the crystals had pointed her to on the map. She had the dimensions of the unknown region, and theoretically it was possible to calculate the source of a mystical disturbance, if one had the proper math, and remember to factor in all the other sources of interference, which included almost everything from solar flares to the average weight of nuns in the area. She grunted and erased yet another line from the California landscape. If this got anymore frustrating she'd just give up and go back to the crystals.

She pulled out the book that had come with the crystals, and paged through it once again. The stupid crystals were supposed to direct her to where she needed to be, but were subject to mystical interference. She groaned and put her head down on the table.

There was still no word from the Order. That could mean any number of things, and all of them bad. What could have been going through Harry's head? She'd lost friends as well but she'd never risk destroying all reality for the sake of one person. She sighed again and went back to work.

The barkeep shouted last call and Tonks began to pack away her maps and books. She got up, stretched, and found herself fighting off a yawn. She'd have to find some where to spend the night, probably another alley with appropriate charms. The band was packing up as well. Tonks was about to head out, but she thought she ought to thank them for making the evening at least semi tolerable. The lead singer and drummer were hauling a speaker out the back door, but the base player was still there, winding up extension cords. His hair was an enviable shade of blue. He looked up and saw her standing in front of her.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said back. "Just thought I'd say you guys did a smash up job."

"Cool," the young man responded.

He continued to look at her politely, and for some reason she wanted to continue talking to him.

"Are you boys playing anywhere else this week?" she asked, though she knew she'd be too busy trying to save the world to see them again.

He shrugged. "We don't have another gig until the middle of August, in San Diego."

"Oh, well…maybe I'll look that up."

"Cool," he said nodding. He looked at her bag, which was half opened, with maps sticking out the sides. "Doing the tourist thing?" he asked.

"Sort of." She looked at the clock. It was just past 2 A.M. She'd have to go soon. She was on a mission after all. If she wanted to justify this use of time she'd have to ask something work related. _What the hell,_ she thought. _He'll probably think I'm drunk anyway_. "You wouldn't happen to know if there was a large instability in the fabric of reality anywhere around here, would you?"

Instead of blanching or laughing at her possibly drunken rambling, he looked thoughtful. "Why are you looking for one?"

"I've got to keep a depressed teenager from using dark magic to pop it open and destroy the world."

He nodded as if this were the sort of answer he expected. "There are a couple of inter-dimensional gates in L.A., but you're probably looking for the Hellmouth."

"Hellmouth?"

"It's an entrance to hell. I heard it was destroyed earlier this year, but that could leave a weak spot in reality I guess."

"So this Hellmouth is near here?" She wasn't sure if he really knew what he was talking about or if he was pulling her leg, but this was the closest she'd come to a lead in days.

"It's in Sunnydale. Well it was in Sunnydale," he amended.

"It moved?" she asked skeptically.

"No, the town was completely destroyed. There's just a crater there now."

"Oh." That sounded promising.

He nodded.

"Could you show me?" she asked, pulling out one of the maps. Trelawney's crystals tumbled out as she unfolded it, scattering across the floor. She grumbled and bent to pick them up. He took a pen from his pocket and circled a small portion of the map, then bent to help her gather her things. She stuffed them into her bag, and took the map back. It was very late, but she wasn't too tired. She thought she'd be up to Apparating. If she confirmed the instability, she'd set up camp in Sunnydale right away. Her mood was very much improved.

"Thanks!" she said, and without thinking gave the base player a quick hug. She whirled and rushed out the door into the sweltering night.

* * *

Oz stared after the strange woman for several long moments. There was something about her that he found very familiar. It wasn't the short blond hair with pink highlights, or the leather and plaid outfit, that was for sure. It was more of a sort of strange buzzing energy that seemed to hover around her in an intangible cloud. _She's probably a witch_, he decided after another moment of contemplation. He should probably give Buffy and the Scoobies a heads up, as trouble on the Hellmouth was their deal. Oz was about to go look for his cell phone when he saw one of the woman's crystals lying halfway under the stage. He snatched it up and ran out the door. He saw the woman walking under a street lamp a block away. He was about to call out, when she raised her hand in the air. She was holding something, but he couldn't see what. Her arm swept down and suddenly she wasn't there anymore. After another thoughtful moment he said "cool" and then went back to searching for his phone.

It was almost three when his call finally got through. He immediately recognized an exhausted but alert Xander on the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Oz said.

"Oz?"

"Yup."

"Hey man, it's nice to hear from you but were in the middle of a crisis at the moment," Xander said. "Some crazy guy kidnapped Dawn. He took down Faith and two of the new Slayers, and identical twins just appeared in the living room."

"Cute identical twins at least?"

"Guys actually."

"Harsh," Oz said.

"Yeah, isn't it?"

"This crazy guy wouldn't happen to be a depressed teenager trying to pop a hole in reality and end the world, would he?" Oz asked.

Xander was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again his voice was hopeful.

"What do you know?"

Oz recounted his meeting with the witch.

"How fast can you get to Sunnydale?" Xander asked.


	14. Tea and Tourniquets

**Author's note: **Wow! This update took forever didn't it?

**A Well in the Dead Land**

**By Marz**

**Chapter 14: Tea and Tourniquets**

Mrs. Weasley was seeing red, and not simply because her hair had come loose from her bun, and was floating about her face in the most annoying manner. She'd been called back from guarding a tear in the fabric of reality in Kenya because her sons had stuck their identical noses into Order business again. Apparently they'd sent Snape back to England from a muggle hospital and no one had heard from them since. Professor McGonagall had given her the information, but apologetically explained that they did not have the resources to go looking for the twins.

She'd spent the entire night taking apart the family clock so she could track them down. She looked at the clock hands labeled Fred and George that she had tacked to the back of her cookbook. They were pointing to a run down apartment across the street. She hurried to it, dodging taxis and rundown cars, with hoods and doors that did not match the rest of the machine. Her wand was clutched in her fist, but she had stopped caring if muggles saw it. There was a woman down the street with a shopping cart full of broken light bulbs. She would hardly stand out as odd.

The entry way was unlocked and filled with black plastic bags of garbage. The stair well smelled awful, and she hiked up her skirt before starting the climb. She couldn't sense any dark magic as she went, and when she stopped at the second floor landing to check for booby traps, she again found nothing.

The clock hands led her down a hall to an unassuming wooden door. Mrs. Weasley pressed her ear to it. She could hear people talking inside, and two of the voices were completely identical. She couldn't make out words, but they sounded in no way disturbed. Mrs. Weasley tucked her cookbook into one of the pockets of her dress and knocked, rather then knocking down the door.

A girl in her late teens answered the door. She was wearing a sleeveless shirt with a plunging neckline and a skirt that could have easily passed for a belt. Mrs. Weasley nearly ordered her to go put some more clothes on, but she forced down the impulse.

"I'm Fred and George's mother. Where are they?" Mrs. Weasley demanded.

The girl stepped aside and waved Mrs. Weasley in. There were several other girls standing around the room, all looking mildly put out. Mrs. Weasley swore she'd call their parents as soon as she had dealt with her own offspring. Fred and George were seated on a couch in front of a muggle television set. They held funny little gray boxes with buttons and wires coming out of them, connecting to the blinking glowing machine. Their expressions contained nothing but horror as they turned to look at her.

"What did you think you were doing?" she demanded in a voice that rattled the windows. "You've worried your father and I stupid! I come across an entire ocean looking for you only to find you sitting on couch playing muggle television games?"

"Mum we're sorry, but-" Fred started to say.

"But nothing! I don't care if you have moved out. You're going to be grounded until you're old enough to retire!"

"Mum-" said George, looking down at his feet.

"Don't think you can get out of this by looking guilty now! You drop out of school, and now….now…"

"Mum!" Fred said, his eyes going to the floor and then back up to hers.

Finally catching on, she looked down. Fred and George each had a manacle around their left ankle. The manacles were linked to a length of chain that went around the bottom of the couch and came up again to rest in the hand of another of the not quite modestly dressed young women. Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened a bit as she saw the young woman trying not very successfully to hide a battle ax behind her.

"Oh….my," Mrs. Weasley said.

8888888888888888888888888888888888

Xander sighed and dropped another package of noodles in the cart. The biggest problem with taking prisoners, in his opinion, was having to feed them. It wasn't as bad as having to give Spike mugs of pig's blood while he was chained up in Giles' bathtub, but it was still pretty annoying.

The twins, identified as Fred and George Weasley by the names written in the waist bands of their boxers, ( it was Willow's idea but they had made Xander check), were not very forthcoming with information. Xander though it was probably because Willow had scared them stupid with her "I'm running on un-leaded evil" routine. The twins had spent most of the last sixteen hours sitting on the couch in the slayer's living room, tied up of course, watching MTV. They'd tried to get the Professor Lupin to free them, but he just told them they'd earned detention and they would have to serve it. Willow wanted to try pulling some information out of their heads with magic, but Giles had vetoed that idea, as she was rather frazzled and had unintentionally made two potted plants explode when she was simply asking the twin's question. Fred and George apparently had a talent for making people loose their composure. Willow had growled and stalked off to try a concealment spell on the apartment, incase anyone came looking for the twins.

The search for Dawn wasn't going well on any other front either. Slayers were calling in with negatives across the western United States. Buffy, who was traveling through Kansas into Colorado during her call, hadn't seen any sign of Dawn and all the tracking charms she tried along the way had failed. Oz was hanging around the crater that once was Sunnydale, but he hadn't found any traces of Dawn, or of the witch who he had directed there.

Xander checked his watch as he walked down the frozen dinner isle. He had eight hours before he, Willow, and Giles caught a flight to L.A. Three recently recruited slayers had arrived at the apartment to take over guard duty in their absence, and the cramped space had gotten even more cramped. To help people settle in, Xander had volunteered to make everyone dinner, at which point they realized there was no food in the refrigerator. One of the new slayers, Candice Greene from New Jersey had volunteered to help Xander with the shopping. She was picking out tomatoes when he last saw her.

He pushed his cart down the next isle. There was a tall man with thinning red hair standing in front of a display of Dinner-in-a-Box, looking rather befuddled. He looked at Xander as he passed.

"Those things really aren't so bad," Xander said. "If you don't mind getting a week's worth of sodium in one meal."

"Oh? Well yes. Thanks," the man said nervously.

His British accent did not go unnoticed.

Xander hurried toward the produce section. It could be just some random coincidence but he didn't really believe in those anymore. They would just buy what was in the cart and go.

Candice was stuffing mushrooms in a bag, but she dropped them as Xander came through the islands of apples and Romaine. Xander's eyes went to the mirrors that circled the ceiling of the store. They were meant to help catch shop lifters, and they gave him a very good look at the three people tailing him. The red haired man had been joined by a dark haired woman and a man with a shaved head. There was something wrong with the way they dressed but Xander couldn't put his finger on what. He abandoned his cart.

"I think we'll get take out instead," Xander said to Candice, his eyes flicking toward the rapidly gaining figures.

Candice turned and hurried with him towards the front of the store. She looked very nervous. Xander knew a little of her history. She was almost thirty, but she'd only known of her powers for a few months. She'd dusted three vampires, but he thought three witches was probably not a fight in her weight class.

They were almost to the registers when a grizzled old man in a bowler had stepped out from behind a tower of Frosted Flakes ten feet ahead of them.

"Where are ya running off to?" he asked tilting up his chin to show off an electric blue glass eye.

Xander's hand went to the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Do you really think two wooden staked and a silver dagger are going to help you lad?" asked the man with the crazy eye.

Xander shrugged. Suddenly he felt Candice's hand on his belt. She glared at what was most likely a wizard as he blocked their path. Xander felt her tense.

"Maybe stakes won't help us," Candice said. "But we still have the element of surprise."

"Really?" said the man with the eye.

She nodded. The man started to pull something out of his sleeve. Xander shouted.

As uncomfortable ways to travel went, being picked up by your belt and pitched is not in the top three, but it may hold a place in the upper ten.

Xander's arms pin-wheeled and he crashed into Mr. Eye, knocking him to the ground. He could already hear Candice mixing it up with the three behind them. Men were grunting in pain and Xander thought he recognized the sound of a pumpkin colliding with someone's head. Mr. Eye grabbed at Xander's throat and got a punch in the chin for it. The old guy went limp and Xander felt kind of bad for a second, then a bright red light sailed over his head, striking the Frosted Flakes display. Xander scrambled through the sudden storm of cereal. By the time the frosted flurry had subsided, Candice had taken out two of the three attackers and was busy with the third. The man with the shaved head seemed to the most competent of them. He actually managed to dodge Candice punches and kicks, though he wasn't having any luck hitting her with the red lights that popped out of the little piece of wood in his hand. Xander scurried over to a display of Spam and picked up a can.

It struck the wall above the bald wizards head and pink processed pig splattered all over him. Xander pitched another can, this one hit the Wizard in the leg as he tried to fire another red light at Candice. _Pretty good for a man with no depth perception_, Xander thought to himself. Candice took advantage of the distraction to kick her attacker in the stomach. She tackled the winded man to the floor and pulled a stake. Xander could see instinct was taking over.

"Don't kill!" Xander shouted. "They're human!"

Candice shook for a moment and then leaned back, tucking her stake back into her coat. She bopped the man on the head once with her empty fist and he sank back on the floor.

"Are we taking them with us?" she asked, panting.

Xander shook his head. "There isn't any more room on the couch."

They jogged toward the exit again, passing the unconscious Mr. Eye and then a stock-boy with a broom. Xander took the cell phone from his pocket as he went. They were stepping on the mat labeled "out" as Willow picked up.

"We've got trouble Will," he said as the doors opened.

"Yes you do," said another tall red head, standing just outside.

Xander was trying to push Candice clear when a red light washed him away.


End file.
